A Tale Of Two Blades
by LadyV77
Summary: Complete! A Wielder from the future comes to erase her past... she doesn't count on falling in love. An AU, multi-verse adventure. Mostly Witchblade. Also PretenderHighlanderBtVS...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Witchblade, Pretender, Highlander, Dark Angel, Buffy and Angel and the related characters do not belong to me, I am making no money off them. Nottingham can come and stalk me anytime he's free, though. Any characters you don't recognize are mine.

**Author's Note:** For any of you who just discovered this, don't worry too much about the multiple universes in one story. It flows pretty well and this story (part of a larger planned epic series) is rooted mainly in the Witchblade world, with the main pairings Nottingham & OC, Sara & Jake. Rating is for mild violence and language. _Italics _signify thought, emphasis or vision. One row of Xs means change of POV, two mean change of scene.

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**Alleyway off 11th Street  
New York, NY  
Monday, July 23, 2001  
11:11 am**

A white vortex formed in the alleyway, ten feet above the ground. A homeless woman watched, mouth agape, as out of the swirling lights fell a young man, brown hair cut military-short. He stood up immediately, jogging to a parked car. Getting in, he hot-wired the car before slamming the door shut. Right then, a young woman fell out of the vortex, which disappeared before she had even landed. She got up and dusted herself off. Glancing around, she noticed the man in the car just as he drove out of the alleyway.

"Marcus!" she yelled. Noticing the homeless woman, she quickly asked, "Please, which direction is the police station?"

Without a word, the woman pointed the direction the man had gone. With a soft "thank you," the young woman from the vortex took off after the car, going just as fast on foot as the vehicle had. The homeless woman reached into the shopping cart and pulled out a bottle of gin. Shaking her head, she poured it out, putting the empty bottle in her bag of cans to sell to the recycling center.

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Simultaneously ... 

Sara Pezzini looked down at her right wrist. The Stone on the Witchblade was swirling with light, and it was whispering non-words in her head. It was excited about something, but even when she focused solely on the bracelet, it wouldn't show her what the big deal was. Sighing, she jotted down the address of a crime scene she wanted to double-check and grabbed her leather jacket and her helmet. There was no way she'd be able to concentrate on paperwork right now.

Kenneth Irons stopped in the middle of his sentence and stared at his right hand. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, the two overlapping circles on his hand standing out in stark relief. Something strange had just happened. It was almost as if the Blade was ... happy.

Ian Nottingham parked his car and tried to dislodge the odd feeling floating in his chest. It was the strangest feeling. He had the strongest urge to start wandering around looking for someone. As if he had been waiting for someone and they were close by now. Glancing over at the police precinct building, he suppressed the sensation. He had a job to do.

In a warehouse across town from Vorschlag Industries, a young woman with white-blonde hair sat up abruptly. She had been sleeping, but she was now fully alert. The room she stayed in had no windows, and the only light in the room was a soft red glow. She sighed, equal parts relieved and anxious. It had begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Outside NYPD 11th Precinct  
11th Street, New York, NY  
Monday, July 23, 2001  
11:13 am**

Even though she was already inside, he still moved in the shadows. He always did. Always a discreet distance from her. Never seen or heard. Unless he wanted to be. That, and the few times the Witchblade had alerted her to his presence before he could employ his disappearing act. Sometimes he wondered if he could do it completely. Disappear. There were so few traces of him in the world as it was. What would happen if he erased them? Would Irons still be able to find him? Still have a hold over him?

But he couldn't even try. Even if it was somehow possible to break Irons' hold on him, break away from all his Black Dragon training, manipulation and conditioning, what was the point? He didn't even know if his name was his own.

_Christian, my baby_. He could hear the softly husky female voice every time he closed his eyes. His mother. It was how he knew that Irons' lie that he came from genetic manipulation of Elizabeth Bronte's stem cells was, in fact, a lie. The voice in his head belonged to his mother, and she sounded nothing like Elizabeth. Try as he might he could never remember anything else. Not a scent, not a single image of the woman who might have loved him.

The little boy inside him tipped his felt cowboy hat at a rakish angle and stated matter-of-factly, "Mothers always love their children".

But the adult part of him, the larger part for too many years now, sneered cynically. He had seen the world. Seen parents abandon and even kill their own children, seen women rip unborn babies from their own wombs simply because they didn't want the responsibility. He had never lain with a woman. The very thought that it might result in his child being destroyed without his knowledge more than successfully curbed his baser instincts. Not that he thought he deserved to bring a child into the world, he had taken too many lives out of it to be worthy of that. But he admitted, only to himself, that the thought was a pleasant one.

He climbed up to his usual perch and sat down. He could see both entrances to the 11th Precinct from his spot, the fire escape of the warehouse across the street from the precinct. He settled back against the rung above and behind the one he was sitting on.

She would be in there for hours. Dante had been giving her more and more paper work, the amount seeming to increase exponentially every time she used the Witchblade to solve a case. Not for the first time he wondered. Could he handle the Witchblade? Irons had never allowed him to even touch the priceless treasure. If he had it on, even for a second, he would use it to find out the truth. About himself. Where he came from. If his parents were alive.

So many times he had thought about searching for them. But where could he even start? He had studied with and surpassed masters of so many subjects, yet he knew nothing that truly mattered. His name. His past. His family. Where he was from. Even his birthday was a mystery. He always assumed he was around 8 when Irons had sent him to Europe, which would make him 31 now. 23 years lost. And that wasn't counting the years before then that he simply couldn't remember.

Even if he somehow managed to escape from his life as Irons' assassin-on-a-leash, he would still have nothing that mattered. Perhaps eventually, when Irons had Sara Pezzini and the Witchblade under his control, he would be free to go. Maybe Irons would even tell him everything he knew about his past. Maybe when he knew his past, he could look for a future. His thoughts wandered back a few minutes. Would he be able to find a woman willing and able to put up with his quirks? Would he have a child, or maybe even more than one?

The muscles in his face felt funny for a moment and he realized it was because he had just smiled. Shocked, he blinked and looked down. He couldn't recall the last time he had truly smiled. It certainly must have been before he had known Irons. He had smirked often enough, but a real smile, no. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and concentrated on what his child might look like.

Hope and tenderness clawed their way up from the deepest part of him, the part no one could touch, not even Irons, and he smiled once again. But an image of a child of his refused to surface. Perhaps it was because he had no idea what the child's mother would look like. Perhaps it was because he would never have a child.

All too soon, reality intruded and he stared down at the precinct's parking lot. Something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what quite yet. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Sara walked into the parking lot, already putting on her motorcycle helmet. This was unexpected. He jumped over the side of the fire escape and landed three stories down on the sidewalk softly, silently. He watched from across the street as she pulled up behind a squad car that was waiting for a break in traffic. He was just about to go to his car when a movement at the back of the police lot caught his eye.

A dark sedan was aiming for Sara's Buell full speed. She was about to be crushed and she didn't even seem to hear the car. Just as his own reflexes kicked in and he began to run toward Sara, hoping to alert her to the imminent danger behind her, a blur shaped roughly like a person dashed through the parking lot into the path of the oncoming car.

The person's speed was so great that he wondered if he would be able to keep up in a race. _What in the name of all that is unholy is going on? No one is faster than the Black Dragons! And none of the remaining three are in the city._ The figure stopped directly in front of the oncoming vehicle, and she braced herself.

A woman! Maybe there had been a female division of the Black Dragons that Irons had never told him about. He wasn't exactly kept well-informed about Irons' various projects, unless he had to clean up the outcome. The car raced at the woman at fifty miles an hour and Nottingham forced himself not to turn away from the gory scene that was sure to follow.

He was suitably impressed when the woman slammed her hands, which were covered by something that was a shiny gray color, on the edge of the hood of the car and dug her heels in. She was obviously wearing some kind of metal soles, because sparks flew from the contact between her feet and the ground. She threw her head back, evidently in concentration, and a few feet later the car's tires popped and the engine whined to a stop. She had to be a Black Dragon. No one else could do what she had just done. It made sense that there would have been a female division, Irons thought women were easier to control. His master thought that was why the Witchblade chose women. Not because they were more "elemental" as he had once told Sara, but because they could be easily manipulated.

The woman half-collapsed on the hood of the car. A man got out and took off running. The woman heaved herself up and took off after him, following him into an alley behind the precinct. Nottingham took off after them both. The man seemed to have more than normal abilities too, but Nottingham had a feeling that he would catch up with them. The man wasn't as fast as the woman, and she was slower since stopping the car. He didn't stop to wonder why neither Sara nor the squad car in front of her had noticed the drama that had played out behind them, nearly into them.

As he neared the alley, Nottingham slowed to a walk and crept to peer, hidden, around the corner of the building. He watched as the woman, who now had bare feet and hands, grabbed the back of the man's coat and proceeded to slam him bodily into the wall. For a fleeting instant, Nottingham wished it were him. _Where had that come from?_ She had a nice body, what he could see of it beneath the bulky sweats she was wearing, but so what. Plenty of women had nice bodies. Sara was certainly well put together, but despite the fact that he liked to torment her by teasing her, he had never wished she would press her body against his.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?"

The woman had spoken, and Nottingham was inordinately pleased that her voice was soft, husky and somehow musical all at the same time.

"I was trying to fix the problem, Li..."

The woman clamped a hand over the man's mouth. She took a step back from him and hissed, "Don't. You are to call me Mac while we're here, you got that, Marcus?"

Marcus had the audacity to glare at her.

"It's not as if just hearing your name is going to let her know who you are. And even if it did, I'm not going to be _talking_ to her."

"Just do as I say! The only reason you're here is because you said you'd help me. And as for fixing the problem, how is killing my mother going to fix anything?"

_Her mother?_ Who was this Mac person and why did she think Sara Pezzini was her mother? Insanity was one of the side effects of the Black Dragon drugs, but thinking someone who was only a few years older than you was capable of having given birth to you went a little beyond megalomania.

Marcus raised his voice back, "If she dies now, you'll never be born, the destruction of the world won't go down and everything will be the way it should be."

That explained it. She was from the future. Nottingham had no trouble believing it, after all, he had seen, experienced and done stranger things. He had long thought that time travel was possible. But how would preventing the young woman's birth save the world from destruction? It would be a shame if she didn't exist. Then Nottingham shook his head at his own thoughts. By the time she was old enough for him, he'd be much too old for her. Not to mention the fact that Sara Pezzini would never let him anywhere near a child of hers.

Mac paced back and forth a few steps and shook her head.

"We are _not_ going to kill my mother. It's bad enough that Irons killed my father and took me away from her as soon as I was born. Even Nottingham died defending them. There was too much death the first time around, I want things to be different."

Nottingham blinked at hearing of his own death defending Sara Pezzini and her future husband. But who was Mac's father? Conchobar was dead, had been for almost six months. If he were Mac's father, Sara would have been showing for awhile already. Then it hit him - Mac - McCartey! The surfer was Mac's father. Nottingham knew the blonde man liked Sara, but he had thought Sara only viewed Jake as something similar to a kid brother. It just went to show how little he knew of love.

"She spent what was left of her life trying to at least see me once, which she never did. She suffered for most of her life before I happened! And then when she tried to break into the Centre to save _me_ she was killed and the Witchblade fell into the wrong hands and everything went to hell. _And you want to kill her?_ I don't think so. Killing Irons maybe, but _not_ my mother."

Marcus made a dismissive noise in his throat. "No one has the power to kill Irons, not even you. That we know of anyway. Besides, how would you get past Nottingham? Supposedly, he was better than the rest of us put together. And if we kill _her_, she won't have you and we can enjoy the month we have here."

Mac made a sound like a growl and clamped her hand around Marcus' throat, lifting him a few inches off the ground. Very slow and with deadly calm, she told him, "Go near my mother again and you'll wish it was you that will no longer exist in a month's time."

She released Marcus, whose face had turned blue, and turned away from him. The man slumped to the floor and took a few gasping breaths before pushing off the ground and walking down to the other end of the alley and disappearing. Mac continued to hang her head for a few minutes, facing away from the corner where Nottingham remained, silently waiting.


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you enjoy the show?" If there had been any doubt in his mind that she had been talking to him, it was erased by her next words, "I know you're there, Nottingham, Irons used to tell me stories about you. He used to compare us." Her voice lowered slightly and she mimicked an English accent, "_At your age, young Nottingham was already a completely accurate marksman. Work harder, Li _... "

She stopped before revealing her given name, and Nottingham decided then and there that he would somehow find out what it was. He stepped into the alley to face her and she turned around to look at him. They both froze at the same moment. Blue eyes clashed with green and caught.

Her eyes were the color of the Mediterranean Sea on a clear day, not just blue, but not quite blue-green, either. They were stunning and it took entirely too much effort to drag his own eyes away from hers to sweep the rest of her body. If her eyes were stunning, the rest of her more than matched. She had full, pink lips and high cheekbones, and a straight, pert nose that went perfectly with the rest of her face. Her hair was pulled back in a French braid that was as thick as her forearm, and the innumerable strands were a rich brown shot through with natural highlights of deep red.

The impression he got of her body was one of grace and athleticism and he had the uncanny feeling that it would fit perfectly against his. That thought brought to his attention the fact that she was a good 7 or 8 inches shorter than his full height of six feet five inches, the perfect height to hold her close with her head tucked under his chin. Why he kept having these intimate thoughts about her was beyond him, but he was beginning to enjoy them.

Maybe she would be the first person he touched in a non-life-threatening situation. As soon as he had the thought, he knew he would do whatever it took to make it true. He would touch her. He didn't care that she was from another time, that she was someone Irons would want to control, that she was too young for him, that he didn't even know her name. Somehow he felt that he knew _her_.

His gaze traveled to her hands. She had a ring on every digit but her left ring finger. Good, she wasn't married. That was the one thing that would have stopped him from following his chosen path. He studied the rings. They seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't quite place where he knew them. They were all the same metal, silver looking but with a sort of matte finish. They were all Celtic looking in design, intricate knot work. And two of them, the ones on each of her middle fingers, had a red stone. Red stones that seemed to swirl and wink with light, even though they were in the shadows of the alley.

"The Witchblade," he breathed.

The strange feeling he had had earlier suddenly made sense. He must have been waiting for her. But how? And why? His voice seemed to snap her out of her own study of him, and she took a defensive posture. He took a step forward, out of habit rather than an intention to do anything to her. The Witchblade immediately became a gauntlet on each of her hands and forearms, stronger looking and with more coverage than Sara ever got out of the thing. What happened next shocked him.

Pieces of the metal, which had shredded the sleeves of her sweatshirt, continued moving up her arms in a pattern that vaguely resembled veins. The veins of silver colored metal continued their journey over the rest of her body in a lightning quick move that covered basically only the essentials. As it did, the sweats were shredded to bits and fell to the ground. She was left standing in what he could only describe as a metal bikini, knee high boots, and the gauntlets, as well as strings of the metal the Witchblade was made of crisscrossing here and there.

It had also moved up to her face, framing her hair and forming a small silver dragon above her right ear. Now he knew for a fact that her whole body was magnificent. There wasn't a whole lot left to the imagination. The blade appeared last. Her blade was much bigger than Sara's, forming a separate claymore where her mother's was more of a thin shortsword that extended and retracted directly from the gauntlet.

He took a step back and raised his gloved hands to show her, and it, that he meant her no harm. The blade immediately disappeared, but the armor stayed.

She frowned at him and muttered, "Great. What did you do that for? Those were my only clothes!"

She gestured to the tattered sweats lying on the alley floor. She began pacing and talking, and it took him only a second to realize she was now talking to the Witchblade and not to him.

"Now what are we going to do? I have to find Marcus and make sure he stays out of trouble, but I can't exactly go prancing around New York City dressed like a science fiction prostitute." She gestured to her own body and the Stones on her gauntlets glowed blood red. "You just had to get defensive right away. And of course we were in such a hurry to get here that we didn't even stop to think about money!"

Mac made a sound of frustration. Nottingham let her pace for a minute, enjoying the play of her muscles as she moved. He surprised them both when he spoke.

"I'll replace them."

She stopped her pacing and studied him for a second. "Why?"

Nottingham looked away and answered, "It was my fault. I surprised you. You don't have any reason to trust me, but you yourself said that I died trying to save your parents. Is it so hard to believe that I might want to help you?"

Since he was looking at the ground as was his custom, he felt more than saw her carefully consider his words before nodding her head.

There was an awkward silence for a minute, broken when she asked, "How are we going to escape the attention of people at the precinct on the way to your car?"

Nottingham sighed with relief that she had accepted his offer and looked up at her again. By himself, he could escape detection whenever he wanted, but he wasn't sure he could take her with him the way he usually went.

"How did you escape notice in the parking lot when you were stopping Marcus from killing Sara?"

Mac shook her head, "That wasn't me. Marcus has ... special abilities, and escaping the notice of others is one of them. I'm surprised you saw us. I can only detect him when he's hidden because of the Witchblade, and even then not every time."

As he filed this new information away to mull over later, Nottingham took off his gloves and put them in the pocket of his pants. From a belt loop he unhooked the chain that held his wallet and put it in the same pocket. His beanie was next and he smoothed his hair, which hung in jet-black waves several inches past his shoulders, back and into a ponytail. He quickly secured the ponytail with a leather thong that had been in his pocket. He then took off his overcoat and held it up and open for her.

After a moment's hesitation, Mac turned around and put her arms in the sleeves. He pushed the garment up to her shoulders, and she gasped and shivered, far from cold, when his warm hands lingered for a moment, flooded with sensation even though his hands were on top of the thick fabric of his coat. He let go and walked around to face her. The change in him was amazing.

He had a masculine beauty all his own that wasn't hard to see even when he was all bundled up and facing the ground. But like this, in a black sweater that was almost form fitting on his warrior's body, black pants and boots, and with his hair unhidden by the hat, he was magnificent. His facial bone structure was classically handsome, strong and proud. She had never liked facial hair on a man before, but his mustache and beard gave him character, and added to the air of danger that surrounded him.

She liked it. It made her pulse and breath quicken. It made her feel the way Jarod had explained how he felt when he first saw Elaine when they were reunited as teenagers after being separated for years. If her life wasn't quickly approaching it's expiration date, she would have wanted to get to know him better, to see if the feelings only he aroused in her were mutual. But she couldn't start the only relationship of her life with only twenty-eight days left in which to exist. As soon as he helped her get some clothes, she would avoid him as much as possible.

But as she looked into his eyes, large light green orbs surrounded by thick, enviably long black lashes, she wondered if she'd be able to. His eyes were so beautiful and intense that for a moment she felt anchored to him and his world. But he lifted a hand toward her face and she flinched, breaking the spell.

His palm hovered half an inch away from the side of her face and she could feel heat emanating from it. Her nostrils flared slightly and she caught his masculine scent coming from the overcoat now wrapped around her own body. The effect he was having on her was overpowering and she closed her eyes for an instant, her lips parting slightly. Exerting all her will, she re-opened her eyes and licked her suddenly dry lips.

His eyes followed the movement and something flared to life in the moss green depths that knocked the breath right out of her. This time it was Nottingham who broke the connection, asking softly, "Can you make just this part go away?"

From the placement of his hand she knew what he meant and willed the Witchblade to retreat down to shoulder level. He lowered his hand and for an insane moment she wished for it back. Tearing her gaze away from his, she tied the overcoat snugly closed. He reached down and lightly grasped her gauntleted hand in his bare one.

An intense wave of sensation swept over them both and his voice was gruff as he asked, "What about these?"

"No, it would all have to disappear, including the boots." Somehow the thought of only being covered by his overcoat, still warm from his body, was intensely erotic and she flushed slightly. "The gauntlets are the first thing to appear and the last to disappear."

"Okay, you'll just have to put your hands in the pockets." Nottingham turned away and started walking out of the alley. Mac caught up with him and walked beside him through the precinct's parking lot. Jake McCartey walked out to his car as they were passing through, and Mac froze.

Nottingham put his hand at the small of her back and led her past. Jake looked over at them and smiled. Nottingham, relieved the man didn't remember him from their first meeting and grateful to him for giving the woman beside him life, nodded in response and escorted Mac the rest of the way to his car. She slid into the passenger seat and Nottingham realized that it was the first time anyone had sat in that spot. Irons always sat in the back, and no one else had ever ridden in the vehicle with him.

She was already so many firsts for him. He hoped she would be a lot more. Again he was struck by the depths of his feelings for Sara Pezzini's daughter, who he had just met and barely knew. Closing her door, he walked around the car and got in. As he drove to the upscale department store he purchased his own clothing at, he remained silent, letting her sort through her feelings over seeing her father on her own. They were almost there when she finally relaxed and let her head fall back onto the headrest.

Giving her time to rest for a few minutes, Nottingham circled the block a few times. After they had circled six times, she lifted her head and turned to look at him. "You can park now."

He nodded almost imperceptibly and turned the car into the store's underground lot. She lifted a gauntleted hand and suddenly it had only rings on. She looked surprised for only an instant before laying her hand on his sleeve. The sensation that had swept them both in the alley was nothing next to the heat and electricity of this touch. He stopped the car, unable to concentrate on driving, and they both turned their heads to stare at each other.

Mac removed her hand from his arm, her voice barely a whisper, "Thank you."

After a moment a muscle in his jaw tightened and he nodded. He let the car roll forward again and found a spot near the elevators. Trained in courtly arts but rarely having a chance to use them, he came around to her side and opened the door for her. Bare feet swung out, and when she was standing, she frowned down at them.

"Don't worry about it."

She looked doubtful at his words, but followed him into the elevator. They rode up in silence, each in their own corner, thinking over the day's events. When they got off, they were in the women's shoe department. A man in a suit rushed over to them.

"I'm sorry, but we don't allow people in who are not fully dressed."

He had directed his comment at Mac, but when Nottingham stepped in his path and looked down his nose at the man, Ramon, as his small gold badge decreed, gulped.

"M-Mr. Nottingham, what a surprise. If this young lady is your ... friend, we can help you with anything you need."

"My wife," Mac was hard pressed not to gasp in surprise, and the emphasis Nottingham had placed on the word caused Ramon to gulp again, "needs two pairs of running shoes, a pair of boots like the ones I get, and a pair of black dress shoes. Also, however many pairs of nylons you think are appropriate and several pairs of socks."

"Of ... of course. Mrs. Nottingham, will you come over this way so I can measure your feet?"

Mac followed the man and knew a moment of pure panic when Nottingham disappeared from view. Then she spotted his dark head in a department on the other side of the store and relaxed. Maybe there was something he needed, too. Ramon set about measuring her feet and bustled away to bring her the things Nottingham had ordered. She understood the need for socks, running shoes, and even the boots, but what did she need dress shoes and nylons for?

But when Ramón brought out a pair of velvet, strappy heels that tied after winding halfway up her calves, she fell in love with them and didn't care that she would never get the chance to wear them. They were hers from the moment they were on her feet. She had just finished tying the black steel-toe boots when Nottingham rejoined them, a bulging bag in one hand. Setting the bag on a chair, he bent down on one knee to check the fit for himself.

Her heart pounded as she studied the top of his head. It seemed the Fates really had it in for her. He made her feel so much, but she didn't belong here with him and even if she were able to go back to her own time, even if he somehow would want to wait that long for her, he would be dead anyway. Her heart constricted painfully and she resolved to somehow ask her mother to look out for him when she was gone. She was already considering the possibility that talking to her mother about the situation was the easiest way to resolve it without anyone unnecessarily dying. The only problem now was how to approach her, and seeing if Sara would believe her.

Satisfied with the fit of the boot, Nottingham looked up at her, "Take those off, we're going upstairs to one of the personal fitting rooms."

Barefoot once more, she waited as he picked up the bag and instructed Ramon, "We'll take all of it."

"Yes, sir. Do you want me to put these on your account? Perhaps we can set up a separate account for your wife?"

"Not today," Nottingham snapped. Mac wondered why for an instant before reminding herself that after today she probably wouldn't see him again. "I'll pay cash."

He took a large wad of hundreds out of his pocket and peeled off several. Dropping them in the short man's outstretched hand, he bit off, "Keep the change."

Ramon was still practically falling over himself bowing and scraping when they once more boarded the elevator. They rode up in silence, Mac trying to think of how she could possibly pay him back for his generosity while simultaneously cursing her own inability to have planned ahead for all these details. Where was she going to keep all this new stuff? Where was she going to keep herself for that matter? Perhaps she could stay with her mother. But the mere thought of standing face-to-face with her mother for the first time sent her heart plummeting to her toes.

When the elevator stopped she got off and followed Nottingham down a hall to a spacious sitting room with a door on either side. A petite blonde woman opened the door on the right and ushered them inside. Two walls of the room were covered with mirrors, and the opposite corner housed two overstuffed armchairs.

The woman smiled at them both and introduced herself, "I'm Hannah. If there's anything at all I can get for you, just let me know. Now, where should we get started?"

Nottingham again took the initiative and answered, "We just got back from our honeymoon and my wife's clothes seem to have been misplaced. She needs all the basics: under things, shirts, pants, a dress or two. Is there anything else you can think of, darling?'

Mac's breath caught at his easy use of the endearment, but she pulled herself together, knowing they had an audience.

"I prefer jeans to pants, and I'd also like two pairs of sweats."

"All right, Mrs. Nottingham, is there anything I can get for either of you while I get my measuring tape?"

"I'll have a coffee, black, anything for you, darling?"

Mac shook her head and stared at him. He really was very good at lying. Had he done this before?

When Hannah had left the room, she asked, "How is she going to measure me? I'm naked under this."

His gaze became heated instantaneously and her heart rate hit the roof. But he looked towards the floor and the tension in the room eased slightly. Dipping a hand into his original bag, he pulled out a dark green silk nightgown. He held it out to her without lifting his gaze. She took it from his grasp without touching him and turned around. She could see his reflection in the mirror.

His feet were spread shoulder width apart, his hands were clasped in front of him and his head was bowed. Her heart ached for him when she easily recognized the waiting stance of the Black Dragons. She had gone through an advanced form of the training, but with the help of the Witchblade, none of the "loyalty and obedience" side effects had stuck; though her fear of Irons was at times nearly paralyzing.

She untied his overcoat and let it fall to the floor. She quickly lifted the nightgown over her head and let the cool material slide down her body. The garment fit as if made for her, hugging every curve and falling to just above the floor. She turned around and cleared her throat, somehow needing his approval. When he lifted his head she got it in spades. His green eyes devoured her from head to foot and she almost felt as though he had touched her. Almost. He took a step forward and lifted a hand toward the thin strap that had slipped from her shoulder, when the door opened and Hannah walked in. His hand dropped and he resumed his position near the chairs, accepting a steaming cup of dark liquid from the sales woman, very careful to avoid touching her hand.

Hannah appraised the gown and complimented, "It looks as if it was made just for you. Maybe you don't need a personal shopper."

"Oh, I'm afraid I do," Mac confided. "My h-husband picked it out for me. He has much better taste than I do."

"You have very good taste indeed, Mr. Nottingham." The pleasantries dispensed with, she began measuring Mac and making marks in a small notebook. "Well, I'll be back in about twenty minutes, please sit down and relax. If you think of anything else," she pointed to a small button near the door, "buzz me with this and I'll come back right away."

"Thank you," Mac smiled slightly. She wasn't used to smiling a whole lot.

The woman was gone a moment later and Mac was once again alone with Europe's top assassin. The thought gave her pause. It was how Irons had always described him to her. So if Nottingham was Europe's top assassin, who was America's? She mentally shrugged at her own question. It didn't matter.

She sat down in one of the over stuffed chairs and sighed. The chair was heavenly and, other than her small catnap in the car, she hadn't slept in more than forty eight hours. She looked over and up at Nottingham. He was frowning at a spot on the carpet.

She called to him softly, "Nottingham."

He didn't move his head, instead looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Come sit down," she pleaded softly.

He took the three steps necessary to stand in front of the other chair and hesitated for a full minute before lowering himself into it. Mac released a breath she hadn't known she was holding and waited silently for Hannah to return. Even though he was looking down per usual, she had the distinct impression that he was studying her. The sensation was disconcerting and oddly comforting at the same time.

Ten minutes later, just as Mac's eyes were about to drift shut, Hannah came in pulling a rack full of clothes. She went out of the door and came back a second later with an empty rack.

"Here you are. You can put the things you don't want on the empty one. Ordinarily, I would stay and help you with zippers and such, but I'm sure your husband will be more than happy to help."

Mac kept her mouth shut. In for a penny, in for a pound. It was much too late now to protect her own modesty. Hannah once again exited the room and shut the door. Mac stood and walked to the full rack, pulling off a matching bra and panty set. Both items were black satin, the bottoms bikini cut. The bra had removable straps that were padded. She slipped the panties on under the nightgown before pulling the garment up over her head. She quickly donned the supportive bra and sighed. It was the most comfortable thing she had ever worn, next to the Witchblade.

Leaving a few more matching sets and several pairs of panties on the full rack, she moved the rest of the under things to the empty one. Nottingham stood up and took a white lace teddy from the stuff she had just moved and put it back on the full rack. She raised her eyebrows but didn't protest. If he wanted to buy the thing, let him. It was his money. Perhaps he had a woman somewhere that he was buying it for. The thought physically hurt her, and she turned back to the task at hand rather than analyze her feelings.

She went through the casual things first. Everything fit perfectly and she kept two pairs of sweats, one black and one gray, as well as three T-shirts, four long sleeved shirts, three pairs of blue jeans and two pairs of black jeans. Nottingham had hovered on the other side of the rack while she tried the items on, and his glowing looks of approval became more important to her than how the garments fit.

She was just about to remove the rest of the casual wear from the rack when he reached into the clothes and pulled out a pair of black leather pants, a white spandex tank, and a blue-green silk button front shirt. He handed her the garments without touching her and she willingly put them on. The pants and tank fit her like a second skin and the shirt flowed gracefully against her body as she did a mock twirl for him. The fire in his eyes urged her to take the outfit off and keep it on the original rack. Also leaving a black hooded sweatshirt on the rack, she put the rest of the casual clothing on the reject rack.

She was going to also remove the dresses from the original rack when his voice stopped her, "You need at least one dress, if you're going to follow your mother around."

"What do you mean?"

"Tomorrow night she and the rookie ... er, your father, are going undercover at a club that's had a serial killer stalking attractive young couples out into the parking lot. They only allow formal wear."

She looked unsure for a minute, and he spoke softly, "I'll take you."

Startled, she looked at him. Their eyes met and held, and she felt as if a bolt of lightning had shot through her. Oh, she wanted him to take her all right, and she had the feeling he wanted it just as badly, but they both had reasons that they couldn't follow through on the desire. Just being near him was torture, but how much worse would it be if she never saw him again?

Just the thought made her feel sick. She nodded her acceptance and turned back to the rack. After pushing things back and forth for a minute, she pulled out three dresses to try. All three were short and made of silk, but there the similarities ended. The black one was off the shoulder and fitted. The red one was loose fitting, cut in the flapper style, with spaghetti straps. And the aquamarine one had one shoulder strap that flowed smoothly into a tight fitting bodice and a full skirt.

Frowning, Nottingham took the red one from her when she held it in front of her and put it on the reject rack. Okay, no flapper style. After removing the straps from her bra, she took the black one off its hangar and pulled it up over her hips. Turning, she presented her back to Nottingham.

"Zip me."

For a moment she thought he would refuse and she would have to awkwardly call Hannah back in to help her, but then he moved closer. The heat emanating from his body threatened to consume her, and she shivered when he gently grasped the zipper tab and slowly slid it up. It took all of her will power not to lean back against him. She wondered if he would say anything about her scars until she looked up and realized he was looking at her face in the mirror and not at her back.

A moment later a knock sounded at the door and Mac called, "Come in."

By the time Hannah had the door open, Nottingham was once again at the rack, pretending interest in the stitching of a leather jacket.

"Well, that looks great on you."

"Thank you, but do you have it in a slightly different style skirt? I wanted to go dancing in it, but it's a little constricting," she took the half step the dress allowed her to prove her point.

Hannah frowned thoughtfully for a moment and said, "I'll be right back."

Nottingham once again moved behind her and unzipped her without being asked. As soon as the zipper was down, he backed away again. Mac let it slide down her body and picked it up to put back on the hanger. A minute later, Hannah came back in with another dress. This one was slightly longer, but as Hannah moved closer, Mac could see that it had a slit on one side that went pretty high. It was also shot through with blood red metallic threads that shone in the light.

Hannah handed her the dress and she pulled it on. Hannah took a step forward to zip it, but Nottingham was already there to do his part. Mac had the feeling that he was jealous not to be included. Her eyes met his over her shoulder in the mirror, and he nodded. He liked this one. She took it off and put it on the keep rack, and Hannah once again excused herself. That left the blue dress.

She slipped this one over her head and let the fabric swirl down her body. Nottingham zipped this one the fastest yet and Mac realized his self control was wearing thin. Hers wasn't much better. But as she stared at herself in the mirror, she knew she couldn't decide between the two dresses. If the black-red dress was seduction, the blue was femininity and sensuality. Nottingham echoed her thoughts, "Get them both."

The softness in her gaze thanked him and he said gruffly, "Pick out something to wear out of here. I need to check in with Irons soon."

Her blood ran cold at the name, but she nodded and did as he instructed, pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a black long sleeve shirt after reattaching the straps on the bra. He handed her the leather jacket after cutting off the tags with a knife and she set it on the chair as she pulled on her socks and boots. Standing, she put on the jacket as Nottingham pressed the button to summon Hannah. She was there a moment later and Nottingham gave her a wad of cash to pay for the things Mac had decided on. Hannah quickly placed their purchases in three separate garment bags and bid them a good afternoon. This last ride in the elevator was just as silent as the others, but the tension was ten times greater.

When the purchases were in the trunk and they were inside the car, Nottingham turned toward her.

"I'm going to take you to my place. It's on the way to Irons and I barely have time to stop there. I don't want to argue with you, and you're free to leave there if you have somewhere else to go, but I am letting you know ahead of time that I have no intention of letting you disappear on me."

"OK," she accepted, not feeling the need to tell him that she had had no intention of leaving.

Nottingham relaxed slightly and started the car. Mac lay her head back and soon drifted off. She woke when he softly called to her. She climbed out of the car when he opened the door for her and grabbed half of the bags, noting that he made sure to carry the first bag himself, the one that he had pulled her nightgown out of. They took yet another elevator ride, this one to the top floor and got off in a loft.

The whole top floor of the building they were in was open, except for two large rooms, one on each side. There was a king sized bed, a small, functional kitchen, and a living room area with a home entertainment center. Beyond the living room was a wall of windows with a door that led out to a balcony. But it was the greater expanse of space off to one side that held her attention; he had a full gym in his loft, as well as a dojo and an enclosed, sound proofed firing range. They had similar set ups at the Centre for herself and the Pretenders in the Black Dragons program. The thought of the Centre brought back the reasons she was here and exhaustion swamped her.

"Bathroom?" she asked softly as he set the bags down.

He pointed to the room on the left and she went into it. It was huge, with a full sized shower and a separate sunken jacuzzi tub more than big enough for two people. For an instant she wondered if he had ever brought another woman up here, but she let the thought go. It wasn't her business. He might just like the size of the tub because he was such a tall man. When she came out a few minutes later, he was gone.

An ice blue nightgown was on the bed, along with a matching silk robe. She got the distinct impression that he liked taking care of her and allowed herself a small smile. When she picked up the nightgown, there was a small square of paper under it with a phone number written in neat, bold strokes. She ran her thumb over the writing and placed the paper next to the phone in case she needed to call him later. Right now she just wanted to get clean and rest. There was no sense dying of exhaustion before her month was up.

Taking off her new clothes, she folded them neatly and put them on the couch, where the rest of the bags were. She noted with amusement that the bag he had guarded was nowhere in sight. Mac took a quick shower, leaving her hair in its braid, and put the nightgown on when she came out. The couch didn't look too comfortable and she really didn't think he'd mind if she took a nap on his bed, so she crawled in between the sheets. The left side of the bed faintly carried his scent and she buried her face in his pillow, breathing him in once before sinking into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Nottingham stood in his alcove in waiting position, facing the window and studying the circle of light on the floor that he was in the exact middle of. Irons was finishing up an hour long call to a man named Raines in some place called Blue Cove, Delaware. Evidently Raines was having trouble bringing in a man named Jarod in whom the Centre, one of Irons' many worldwide holdings, had invested a lot of time and money.

For a fleeting instant Nottingham wondered if he would be called in to catch the man, not wanting to be sent away from Mac for any amount of time. When Irons finally hung up, Nottingham waited for his boss to speak, knowing that he would already have heard about Nottingham's shopping trip with his "wife".

"So, Nottingham, I hear you made a new friend."

Nottingham remained silent, knowing that the remark had been completely rhetorical.

"It's about time you showed some interest in the opposite sex, though I can't think what possessed you to pick a homeless woman." Nottingham didn't correct him, after all, for now Mac didn't have a home. "I have no objection to your exploring that side of life on your own time, but if I feel she is taking you away from your other duties, she will be dealt with. Am I making myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir," Nottingham answered through clenched teeth. The thought of Irons hurting Mac wasn't one he could stand to dwell on.

"Good. As there is nothing in the upcoming week, after tomorrow night, that will require your watchful eye, perhaps you can get her out of your system during that time."

Keeping his head down, Nottingham headed out of the office.

"Ian." Irons' voice stopped him. He half turned toward his master. Irons threw a small box at him and he caught it in one hand. Condoms. "I don't have to tell you what would happen to any child that resulted from this experience."

With that, Irons sat down at his chess board, dismissing Nottingham. He knew all right. He pondered his upbringing on his way to the parking garage. He would never put _any _child through that, much less one that came from him and Mac. But Mac didn't even have enough time left to have a child. Needing to know more about the circumstances of her arrival in this time, Nottingham sped back toward the loft.

He was more than halfway there when a flashing red light and a siren made him study the car behind him. The blue compact car that Sara Pezzini and her partner used while on duty was behind him, but the blonde former surfing champion was the only one in it.

Nottingham pulled the car over and cut the engine. Leaning over to the glove box, he pulled out registration, a license and insurance papers that proclaimed him to be Jonathan Waters. When Jake McCartey tapped on his window, he rolled it down and handed over the information.

"Sir, you were going forty-five miles an hour, this is a ... " Jake trailed off as he looked at him. "Didn't I see you earlier today with a young woman at the precinct?"

"My girlfriend," Nottingham supplied. "I was on my way to see her and I guess I wasn't watching my speed."

Jake grinned cockily and handed back Jonathan Waters' information.

"Hey man, I know how that is," he remarked with a far off look in his eye. "I'll let you go with a warning this time, Mr. Waters, but watch your speedometer next time."

"Thank you, Officer, I appreciate that," Nottingham said truthfully.

"Actually, it's Detective, but they had a shortage in patrolmen this evening and ... what am I still boring you for?" Jake patted the hood of the car and took a step back. "Get home to your woman."

Nottingham gave Jake a mock salute and pulled away, making sure to observe the speed limit the rest of the way home. He hoped _his woman_ would still be there.

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He found her asleep in his bed. She was on the side of the bed he always slept on, a small smile on her face as she slept. Nottingham felt his own lips curl up in a slight smile. She slept as if she had every right to be there, as if she belonged there. He was quickly coming to realize that she did. Whatever twist of fate had brought her to him, he was convinced that with him was exactly where she was meant to be.

Knowing from observing her earlier that she had been exhausted, he let her sleep, moving silently through the loft, putting away her clothes in his closet, the first section of his weapon room on the right side of the loft. When he was done, she was still sleeping soundly. He stood studying her for a few minutes before taking a shower and pulling on a pair of sweat pants. He usually slept in the nude, but he didn't want to frighten her.

He slipped into the right side of the bed and held his breath as she rolled over towards him in her sleep, mumbling something in a language that was foreign to him. He frowned; he knew quite a few. He'd have to ask her how many languages she spoke when she woke up. Since he wasn't really tired, he lay on his side and watched her sleep. She looked like an angel. His angel. _Angel._ A much better name than Mac, and something he could put on papers to give her identification while she was here. He'd call his contacts first thing in the morning. She'd have to have ID to get into the club tomorrow night.

For a moment he was worried. Sara would be sure to see them. He never failed to be seen by her when he wasn't hiding, and if he was going to dance with his Angel like he wanted, there was no way he could hide. But if he had judged Jake's actions earlier the right way, maybe her own new found happiness would make Sara a little more lenient toward him. They would deal with the problem if it came up. Finally beginning to feel tired, Nottingham let his eyes drift shut and fell into the half-sleep he had allowed himself since he was around eleven.


	5. Chapter 5

Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Tuesday, July 24, 2001  
Just before sunrise

When Mac woke to a dark room, it took her a minute to remember where she was. When she heard breathing next to her, memory flooded back immediately. She turned onto her side to stare at Nottingham. He was so beautiful, but even in sleep he wasn't completely relaxed. Every muscle in his body was tense, as if he would jump up at any second. For a moment, she wondered if she had looked that way while she slept before Jarod had promised that he would never let anyone near her while she did so.

The room lightened by degrees and she was surprised to realize that she had slept through the night. Why hadn't he woken her? Surely he wanted her to get out of his life so Irons wouldn't have something else to hold against him. For the second time, she resolved to ask her mother to watch out for Nottingham. Even if she couldn't exist to be with him, maybe she could at least save his life so that he could continue to live to a ripe old age instead of dying when he was barely thirty. The trouble would be in convincing her mother that his life was worth saving without Sara knowing of all the ways Nottingham would have helped her in the months to come if Mac hadn't come back in time.

Time travel was confusing and frantic, and not for the first time, she wondered how Eve did it. But thinking of Eve made her mad. The Oracles wouldn't explain why this timejump had been something that Mac had to do, and not Eve. Eve, whose powers would have made this trip almost easy. All Mac had was the Witchblade and all her training. True, it was a lot more than most people, but she was still only mortal.

The room was full of sunlight now, and Mac turned her gaze back to Nottingham. Suddenly she wasn't angry anymore. If Eve had made this trip, Mac would never have gotten to know Nottingham.

She didn't know his sleeping habits, so she didn't want to wake him too early. Her gaze dropped to his chest and she let out an involuntary gasp. He was crisscrossed with scars, the same kind she had on her back, only so many more. Each barb on Irons' cat-o-nine tails had only made one ripping stroke down her back, but Irons had evidently used it on Nottingham many, many times. Tiny lines overlapped each other everywhere on his chest and side. There wasn't a square inch anywhere on his torso that wasn't affected. Her heart gave a painful lurch. She didn't think he had had anyone to hold him after each beating as Jarod had held her.

Unthinkingly, she raised her hand to touch one of the tiny lines. Before she could move closer than an inch away, she found herself suddenly pinned to the bed. Faster than lightning, Nottingham had rolled over to straddle her, holding her wrists - covered by the sheet - above her head. His hair fell in a curtain around them and his nose was mere inches from her own. She gasped again, not afraid of him but of everything he made her feel. He immediately rolled away, letting her go.

He began pacing next to the bed and her heart ached for him again. Standing, she drew her nightgown off over her head to hold it in front of her.

Still in her panties, she turned her back to Nottingham and looked over her shoulder at him, "I know it can't begin to compare to what he put you through, but I do understand a little."

Nottingham raised his head to stare at her bare back for a minute. Then he came closer to stand directly behind her. He lifted a hand as if to trace the nine white lines that ran from her shoulder blades to her waist, but lowered it without touching her.

Quietly, calmly, he asked her, "He raised you too, didn't he? Did he ever tell you why he let you know about your parents?"

His unspoken question was the one she felt most deeply, _Why didn't he ever tell me about mine?_

"He never told me about them. I didn't even begin to know anything about them until I was thirteen and the Witchblade activated."

"Activated?" Nottingham echoed.

Mac sighed. They had a very long conversation coming if he was to know everything, and she had the distinct feeling he wouldn't settle for less, but right now she was starving.

"I'll tell you the whole story, I promise, but first can I please go get something to eat?"

"No."

"No? What do you mean, no? I'm starving and if I have to fight you to get out of here and eat, I will. I appreciate everything you've done for me, more than you could ever know, but I'm not your prisoner! I'll never again be anyone's ... "

Nottingham walked up to her and lay a finger over her lips. They both drew in a breath at the contact and froze, and it was hard to say who was more surprised that he had touched her, skin to skin. He drew his finger away and stared at it as if he could still feel her there. She knew that her lips were branded forever by his touch. Suddenly she was flooded with a need to be touched by him. Everywhere. But just as suddenly the reality of her situation pressed itself into her mind again and the feeling was pushed back. She would never be able to get rid of it completely, nor did she know if she would want to if she could. She'd just have to live with it. For the next twenty-seven days, anyway.

"I'll make something."

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that for a minute she didn't realize he had spoken and was staring at her.

When she finally looked at him, he said softly, "If you really want to go, you're free to do so. But don't think for a moment that I'm going to leave you alone."

"Why?"

She needed to hear him say that he cared, that he needed her to be with him for whatever time she had left, but she knew she was hoping for too much too soon.

"I want to know you."

Five simple words and yet they held so much meaning. Pleasure flooded through her, and she smiled shyly. Maybe the exact words weren't so necessary.

Nottingham walked to the kitchen area of the open loft as she put her nightgown back on and pulled on the matching robe. He peered into the refrigerator.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Surprise me," she said.

He turned to stare at her. "You've never had eggs before, have you?"

She shook her head. "We only had protein supplements and vitamins in the Centre."

He frowned for a moment and then took out a pan and set a carton of eggs on the counter. Then he pulled more ingredients out of the refrigerator and set about making breakfast. After watching him for a few seconds, Mac turned and walked toward the bathroom.

"There are extra things in the cabinet above the sink, there should be a toothbrush there."

"Thank you," she said, and they both knew she meant the words for so much more than a toothbrush.

Nottingham found himself smiling as he turned the stove on. She would stay, at least for now. His face fell. He had to find out why she only had a short amount of time and if there was anything they could do to make that time longer. If they found a way for her to still exist, would she be willing to be with him in the future when he was more than twice her age? While he made breakfast, he tried to think of other solutions to the problem besides not letting his Angel come into existence. There had to be another way. When and if someone came to take her away from him, he would fight to the death to keep her here.

She came out of the bathroom six minutes later, her hair loose and wet, hanging in waves half way down her back. Her nightgown and robe clung damply to her body and her face had a freshly scrubbed look to it. He set their plates on the breakfast bar and sat down on one of the stools. She sat down on the other and looked curiously at her plate.

He pointed out the food to her, "Scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry jam, and bacon."

She nodded her thanks and watched as he picked up a strip of his own bacon and took a bite. It was disconcerting to have someone watch him so closely, especially since he hadn't eaten in front of anyone for a very long time. But if it helped her, even in some small way, he could ignore his discomfort. After a slight hesitation, she tried each item of food and then began eating in earnest, cleaning her heaping plate and another when Nottingham got her seconds. She _had_ been hungry. When she was done, she copied Nottingham's actions, rinsing her dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. He took a digital camera out and took a head shot for her falsified driver's license. Turning, she frowned at the couch.

"The closet is in the weapon room," he informed her, pointing to the room on the right of the loft.

She nodded and walked into the room. When he placed the call to his contact and emailed the picture minutes later to start the process for her identification and she still hadn't emerged, Nottingham followed her in. She had jeans and a T-shirt in her hands, but she was now studying his collection of swords and knives. Some were ancient, battle scarred from fights that were won and lost hundreds of years before. Some were brand new, never having been used. Still others had once been his own personal weapon, obviously newer than the ancient pieces, but no longer unmarred by the scars of battle.

"They're beautiful," she complimented softly before turning to leave the room.

His chest swelled slightly with pride at her words, though she had no way of knowing that he had forged many of the newer ones himself.

"Would you like to practice with one?"

She turned back to smile at him, and he wondered at the sadness in the gesture.

"Maybe later. After I get dressed, we need to talk."

Hoping she was going to tell him the story of her life, and perhaps even her name, he let her walk out of the weapon room. Grabbing some of his own clothes, he crossed the loft to the bathroom and closed the door. He quickly showered and dressed, eager to hear what she had to say. But his movements slowed the more he thought about it.

He knew that he wasn't going to like a lot of what she had to say. Part of him didn't want to know everything Irons had done to her, because he didn't know how much more hate he could have for the man and still be able to hide it. And he had a feeling that the hate he would feel on behalf of his Angel would be a thousand times stronger than the hate he felt for everything that had been done to him.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged on the bottom of the bed, which she had evidently made while he was showering. He sat on the bed, leaving plenty of space between them. She turned to face him, quiet and calm. But he could also sense the sadness in her, and his heart ached that telling him her past was going to cause her pain.

"When I was around thirteen, it might have been on my birthday, the Witchblade suddenly appeared around my neck. It started out as a necklace, and over the years has gone through many forms, the latest of which is the rings. I can only assume that it was dormant inside me before that, only making it's appearance when it felt I was ready. Just as Maria Bouzani was my mother's guardian," Nottingham nodded slightly, he had thought that was who her guardian had been during the Periculum, "my father was mine. Since he is alive here, I don't have one anymore."

"But that's not important. What is important is the fact that since my father was dead, time didn't have a lot of meaning to him, so I have only vague guesses about some things. When he first appeared to me, he explained what the Witchblade was, and who he and my mother were. He also told me what they had named me when they found out I was going to be a girl."

She stopped and Nottingham waited, hoping she would say her name, that she would trust him with the knowledge.

"They named me after Jake's aunt and my mother's...er...former self, her grandmother. Lilianna Elizabeth McCartey. I told my Keeper, Jarod, and he forever after called me by my real name. After a while of trying unsuccessfully to get Jarod back to calling me 'girl', as they had my whole life, everyone started calling me by my real name, Irons included."

"I was born in Irons' office shortly after you died. My father was killed just before that, though you tried to save him. For the first year or so of my life, I was raised by a series of nurses, none of them staying at Irons' mansion for more than two weeks. He didn't want any attachments to be formed. After that, I was brought to the Centre, which until a few days ago, I had never been allowed to leave for more than a day at a time, and only then with a Sweeper to carry out a hit."

"What's a Sweeper?" Nottingham interrupted.

"A Sweeper is a person who works for the Centre, usually under the direction of an assigned executive, and carries out a lot of the dirty work: tracking, killing, tailing, and in my case, keeping their assignment in custody. Most of them are ex cons who don't care what they have to do to get a paycheck. Some actually like the job. Others, who are at the Centre because of being blackmailed or tortured into it, just do what they have to in order to survive. There are also Cleaners, higher-ups who are usually assassins, assigned to get rid of problems and make sure there is no evidence of Centre involvement, and Keepers, who raise and train the captives of the Centre, though many of them are captives of the Centre themselves, like Jarod."

Nottingham nodded.

"Anyhow, I was put through all kinds of conditioning and brain washing from before the time I was able to talk, including an advanced form of the Black Dragon training. Most of the mind games didn't stick other than the fact that I tend to freeze up around Irons, and I can only guess it was because of the Witchblade being inside me. I did, however, excel at hand to hand combat and any form of weapons training. Jarod was rather disturbed by that, since he himself doesn't believe in killing, but he and I are very different and I'm surprised it never drove a wedge between us."

"You were close to this Jarod?"

Jealousy made his voice harsh and, confused, she stared at him with a hurt look for an instant before answering.

"Jarod is my uncle, and he was also raised by the Centre, though not until he was three. He escaped them five years ago at this point in time, but he went back to protect me when I was around eight after they killed the love of his life and their child. In return for his cooperation and the return of some items he had taken with him during his escape, he was allowed to raise and train me. I was lucky to have him, not many people raised in the Centre have someone who cares about them as their Keeper."

Nottingham had relaxed as soon as she explained the family tie, and the phone conversation of Irons' that he had overheard the day before made a little more sense. Irons never let anyone out of his grasp once they were in it. He wondered for a moment whether Irons was aware of the blood tie yet, then realized that he didn't know whether the tie was to Sara or not. He had a hard time believing anyone related to Jake McCartey could be that important to Irons, but he had also been told that Karen Bronte and her mother, Jane, were Sara's only living relatives.

"I think Irons has some man named Raines looking for your uncle. But is Jarod related to your mother or your father?"

"Raines will never find him, he'll be dead within the year from lung cancer. Jarod is my mother's older brother. She also has a fraternal twin sister named Emily, a younger half brother named Ethan, and a deceased older brother named Kyle." She left Gemini out of it. How could she explain Jarod's twin, who wasn't the same age as Jarod and who had originally died before he even had a real name? Maybe she could find a way to prevent his death.

"Is he deceased _now_?"

For a moment his question threw her, then she realized he was talking about Kyle.

"Yes, he's been dead for two years, I think. He was killed saving Jarod, and Jarod donated his heart to a teenage boy who would have died without it."

"Your uncle is quite a man."

"You have no idea," she murmured softly before continuing her story. "Jarod is what's known as a Pretender; they're geniuses with the ability to become anyone they want to be. When he was growing up, the Centre exploited his talents to sell information and ideas to the highest bidder, and he found out later that sometimes the information was used to hurt and kill people. So when Jarod broke out, he spent most of his time trying to help people as a kind of misplaced penance, while also looking for his family. But that gets even more complicated and isn't really important right now."

"So, before I knew anything about the Witchblade, I was already an assassin and a Black Dragon in training. Irons always made sure there was no possible way for me to escape, and he beat me the one time I got close." Nottingham growled and she lowered her voice slightly. "It was two years after Jarod was brought back to the Centre, and I still didn't completely trust him. When Irons caught me trying to escape, he beat me and then used the cat o' nine tails on me. Jarod broke in and stopped him, taking care of me and nursing me back to health."

"A few years after that, the Witchblade activated and my father told me what he could about myself, himself, and my mother. That's when I learned that my mother was still alive, but after thinking about it I gave up on the idea of getting out and finding her. I knew that if I did manage to escape, Jarod would have been killed, and by then that had become something I could never allow. But Irons never truly accepted that I wouldn't at least try. For the next eleven years I was constantly under surveillance, as well as a heavy rotation of Sweepers."

Nottingham stood and began pacing. Agitation rolled off him in waves and Lilianna felt an urge to comfort him, even though she was the one who had been through so much. Then she stopped herself. She wasn't the only one who had been through a bad childhood. They were more alike than either of them had initially realized, both having been manipulated and controlled their whole lives. And both of them by the same man.

"He watched me every day from then on, though I only physically saw him when the other Pretenders and myself had to report every other day for our Black Dragon training."

Nottingham stopped his pacing to turn and ask her, "Are you a Pretender?"

Lilianna shook her head and said, "I have Pretender genes, but they're not fully dominant. I have some Pretender abilities, but nowhere near Jarod's level, my talents lie mainly in weaponry and languages, I know eleven. At one point they wanted to start me on a breeding program, but with the help of the Witchblade, they could never get close enough. I'm surprised they didn't try harder, I may have given in if they had used Jarod as leverage." She frowned and shook her head. "Sometimes they have hidden motives."

"Then a week ago, all hell broke loose. My mother broke into the Centre but died trying to get to me, and I never even got to see her." Tears began to roll down her face. "Irons got the Witchblade back, but couldn't control it. He couldn't even put it on. Then Glorificus, a demon god from another dimension that at this point in time has been trapped on earth for twenty-five years, came and stole the Witchblade to find her dimensional key, and all the dimensions became blurred together. Jarod was turned by a vampire, and I had to k-kill him to save a young Pretender named Cami."

Her voice broke and the tears she had been crying turned to sobs that wracked her body. Nottingham didn't know what to do, and for an instant he froze. Then something kicked in, instinct, he supposed, and he sat beside her. Awkwardly, he put an arm around her. When she hesitantly moved closer to him, he momentarily stiffened, but he liked the sensations that this brand new type of contact gave him. He felt closer to her, protective and possessive. He scooped her up and placed her gently in his lap. Lilianna looped both arms around his neck and clung to him.

For a minute he just listened to her sob, holding his arms loosely around her. Then he tightened his hold on her and lowered his head to rest it on the top of hers, surrounding her with his strength. Her sobs began to quiet and he rubbed soothing circles on her back. Scooping her up again, he moved back on the bed to rest against the headboard. When he deposited her half on him and half against him, she almost immediately softened and remained clinging to him.

Emotionally drained, her sobs turned to muffled sniffles. Her breathing slowed and her fingers crept up slightly to thread through the hair near his nape. It sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, and he tightened the arm he had around her, stroking slowly down her back repeatedly with the other hand. Soon, she was asleep, her breath coming in soft puffs against his chest where her head rested. Unable to resist, he bent his head down and kissed the top of hers softly.

In her sleep, she snuggled closer to him and murmured, "Nottingham."

Smiling, he laid his head back and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Hours later, Nottingham was surprised to find that he too had slept and that it was fast approaching the time when they would have to get ready to go to the nightclub. Gently, he shook her until she woke, smiling shyly up at him. She moved off him, and he immediately missed her weight. Sitting on the side of the bed, she looked over her shoulder at him and their eyes met and held.

"Lily," he breathed softly. Her gaze softened and she waited. "Can I ... "

Whatever it was that he wanted to ask of her, it was obvious to her that it was difficult for him. A part of her ached to tell him that she would do anything in her power for him, that he didn't even have to ask, but her brain reminded her that it wouldn't be fair to him to know how she felt. She knew for a fact that he had at least some life left to live, more than her twenty-seven days. She would never do anything to hurt him.

Nottingham swallowed hard and tried again, "Can I ... touch you?"

Lilianna's heart stopped for a moment.

Fearing her silence, Nottingham sat up and started to take back his request, "I'm sorry, Lilianna. I should never have asked that of you. I've just never really touched anyone I wasn't trying to hurt or ... "

Mirroring his earlier move, Lilianna placed her fingertips against his full lips. When she left them there after he had stopped speaking, Nottingham slowly raised his own hand to grasp hers, lightly kissing her fingers before lowering their joined hands.

"Yes," she said softly.

Nottingham turned her hand over so that the palm was facing up. He brushed his fingertips lightly over her fingers, and then her palm. She shivered, smiling softly when he glanced at her face. Her palm was callused in a pattern similar to his, calluses that came from frequent and repeated use of various weaponry. He lightly traced her calluses before moving his hand to her wrist. Here her skin turned soft, softer than the silk his master made him wear in front of important people. Even better was the fact that her skin was warm, living.

Breathing hard, he lifted both hands to cup her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. A single tear ran down her cheek. He caressed it away with the pad of his thumb.

She opened her eyes and smiled tremulously, "No one's ever ... touched me this way before."

Nottingham smiled softly and began to lean toward her but stopped almost immediately. He dropped his left hand and traced her features gently with his right index finger. Lightly, his finger ran down her neck to the small hollow above and between her collarbones. Capturing her gaze with his, he kept his finger there for a minute, learning her heartbeat.

Her pulse quickened slightly, and he realized his own had as well. He wasn't completely naive; he had seen Irons seduce countless women, as well as the occasional man. Lilianna deserved better than this, better than anything Nottingham could give her, even if he were ever to be free of Irons.

"This has to stop."

She looked hurt at his sudden declaration. Perhaps it was better that way. Lilianna got up and walked several paces away from him. He could feel her withdrawing mentally as well, and a physical pain formed in his chest. He stood up and grasped her upper arms, turning her to face him.

When her eyes met his, he said softly, "Thank you, Lily."

Forgiveness shone in her eyes and she whispered back, "You're welcome."

He moved away from her reluctantly, heading to the kitchen to make them a quick dinner of sandwiches and soup.

When she sat down to wait for the food, he said softly, "You haven't told me how you got here and how you not being born will stop all of this from happening."

She studied him for a minute and then asked, "I've told you about a lot of things most people would never believe in, yet you take my words at face value, why is that?"

"I've seen so many things in this world that could only be described as unbelievable that I don't have difficulty learning that there is more out there than even I know about. And ... I trust you."

She looked away from him, overcome by emotion. She knew how hard it was for someone like them to trust anyone, it had taken Jarod almost two full years and a beating from Irons to get through to her, and Nottingham had been under similar conditions, but alone, for a longer period of time. Yet he trusted her.

Just as she trusted him, she realized. Wondering what other emotions they mirrored one for the other, she forced herself not to hope. Even hope was a dangerous thing when she knew very well that she wasn't going to be around long enough for it to be fair to him for them to explore their feelings.

"After Glory got the Witchblade and opened the dimensional barrier, she tried to take mine but couldn't. She let it slip while we were fighting that she had once tried to take the original from my mother but failed. She described in graphic detail how she had killed three girls known as Slayers and how I wasn't anywhere near a match for them, let alone her. She also described how she was going to kill me. Fortunately before she could, myself and a few other people who grew up in the Centre, including Marcus, were taken away by beings known as Oracles. From the safety of their Realm we watched as the world was destroyed over the course of a single day. A woman, an Immortal named Eve, was also brought there and told to send me to the past to fix things."

"Marcus offered to go with me to help and in the limited amount of time we had to make a plan we figured that the only way to fix everything would be if I never existed. Then my mother won't die trying to save me, the Witchblade will never be taken by Glory, and the dimensions won't merge and destroy each other. And my father won't die, and Jarod will never go back to the Centre. And now that we've met and you know what will happen, you won't have to die either."

"The Oracles only had enough power left to make me able to exist in this time line for a lunar month, twenty-eight days. So that's how long I'll be here. I don't know how I'll die, whether I'll just cease to exist or someone or something will come to kill me."

"I won't let them," he stated calmly as he set their plates and bowls on the counter.

She raised her eyebrows at this but didn't comment, knowing that giving voice to the truth would only lead to more pain for both of them. They ate in silence for awhile.

"So, what is your plan?"

"I'm going to follow my parents around and make sure they don't ... um ... conceive me. The Oracles couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but I was conceived within the next twenty-seven days. It's why they had me sent back to now."

"Do you really think you'll be able to stop them? How will you? Would you be willing to break into either one of their homes and attack them if they both sleep in the same bed during that time?"

She almost seemed to wilt in front of him. Softly, so softly he barely heard her, she admitted, "I just don't know."

"Don't worry. We'll figure it out as we go. One day at a time."


	7. Chapter 7

While Nottingham went to pick up the papers and other things his contact had falsified for her, Lilianna got ready to go to the club. She knew how to dance, it had been one of the things Jarod had made sure was part of her education because it was something he hadn't learned until he was out in the world.

She was much more nervous about facing her parents for the first time. Considering Nottingham's past with her mother, it was foolish to even hope that she wouldn't confront them at some point during the night. Would the Witchblade tell Sara who she was? Was she ready to tell her mother what she must?

When Nottingham came back half an hour later, she was fully dressed. She stood for his scrutiny and slowly turned. She was wearing the black dress, and when the Stones of the Blade glowed, it brought out the metallic threads in her dress all the more. When she once more faced him, his eyes burned into hers, and he smiled. A tingle ran up and down her spine and she looked away, blushing.

"Are you sure we shouldn't go get a different pair of shoes for you to wear? I know you like those. You don't want them to be destroyed if you have to wear the Witchblade, do you?"

"No, but the Witchblade never wrecks my shoes, it just forms over them."

"Then why didn't you have shoes on when we met?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

She blushed again, "When Glory attacked me I was in the middle of getting dressed, and I hadn't put my socks on yet, let alone my shoes. So when the Oracles took me, I was just in the Witchblade. I borrowed the sweats I had on from Derek, another one of the Pretenders, but no one had shoes my size."

He nodded and handed her a stack of papers. On top was a birth certificate with the name Angel DeCarlo and a birth date of April 25, 1977. It was the month and around the day she thought she was born, but twenty-four years in the past from now, making her chronologically the same age she really was.

"Why Angel?"

"I picked it while you were sleeping."

Their eyes met and held. They had only known each other for a very short time, but she had been more intimate with him than with anyone else in her life. Was it the same for him? She looked away first.

"And DeCarlo?"

"My contact picked that out. There are social security papers there as well as a background and resume, just in case you need it. I gave you a background as a private investigator and bodyguard, much like my own. Since you're a Black Dragon, too ... "

He let his sentence trail off.

She nodded. "What about ID for the club?"

He took his wallet out of a pocket and handed her a plastic card, a state of New York driver's license. She had never seen a picture of herself before, and for a moment it was disconcerting. He held out his hand and she gave it back.

"We didn't get you a purse, and it would be more of a hassle than anything else, so I'll hold onto it."

Nottingham detached the chain from his belt loop and his wallet and set both the wallet and the chain on the counter. He went into the weapon room and came out with slacks and a dress shirt, still on hangers. When he disappeared into the bathroom and she heard the sound of the shower running, she sat down on the couch to read through the background he had made up for her. She knew it as well as her own life when he came out twenty minutes later.

He was even more stunning than usual and she couldn't understand why he wasn't crawling with women. She wasn't sure when she had first realized it, but she knew now that he was as inexperienced with women as she was with men, maybe even more so since most of the Pretenders in her program had been male. Then she remembered the waves of danger that rolled off him no matter what he did, and she realized that it might scare a lot of women. It was one of the things about him that had initially drawn her, and it was now such a part of her perception of him that she didn't really notice it unless she tried to see him from another person's point of view.

Grabbing his overcoat from a chair, he draped it on her shoulders. They both got in the elevator and rode down to the car in silence. The ride to the club was also quiet and Lilianna wondered what he was thinking about. She herself should have been thinking of ways to keep her parents apart without hurting either one of them, but all she could think about was him. Would she remember him when she was gone? Would her life ending make her cease to exist in every way? She hoped with all her heart that no matter how painful it was, she would be able to remember her time with him. She had no doubt that he would remember her, though with what degree of fondness she couldn't be certain.

Nottingham pulled into the parking lot and Lilianna looked at the building in surprise. It had at some point been a small warehouse, now just a nondescript two story building with high windows that were blacked out.

"This is it?"

"Yes, it doesn't look like much from the outside, but that's the in thing right now. This place will only be in business for another month or so, which is part of the reason there's no security on the outside that was able to stop the previous killings."

"And the other part?"

"The outside is large, and the owner is a cheap bastard who happens to be cashing in on the killer."

"Cashing in? I would think people would stay away when they knew what was going on."

Nottingham shook his head slowly, an air of sadness in the gesture.

"There are a lot of strange people in this city who find it thrilling to be somewhere that something gruesome happened, and more that simply refuse to acknowledge their own mortality. They feel that nothing like that can ever happen to them, no matter how close they come to it previously. The club has reached celebrity status because of the killings, and when they stop, the club will be out of business in no time."

Lilianna nodded, disturbed, "Let's go put them out of business then."

There was a hint of a smile on his face when he opened her door a few seconds later. She stood up and took his overcoat off.

"I don't think we should take it in with us, just in case we need to leave in a hurry."

"You won't be cold?"

"I went through X-Temp conditioning."

He nodded, remembering weeks of surviving through sudden shifts in extreme temperature, ranging from below freezing to the blazing heat of the desert at midday. It was the reason he could get away with wearing layers of clothes, even in the midst of a summer heat wave. And though there hadn't been a lot of call for him to be bare and exposed in cold weather, he knew he could if he had to. They made their way across the parking lot, he had parked on the far side on purpose, and stopped at the end of the line of people in front of the entrance.

They both spotted her parents at the same time. Sara Pezzini and Jake McCartey were about five couples ahead of them in line. Lilianna stiffened and Nottingham put a comforting arm around her. She leaned into him for strength. Her own seemed to desert her every time she saw either of her parents. He supported her extra weight easily, glad that she felt she could rely on him. He only hoped that his strength added to her own would be enough to get her through the night and any confrontation with her parents that might result from it.

Five minutes later, Sara turned around and looked at them. She must have sensed them staring at her. Frankly, Nottingham was surprised it had taken her as long as it had. At first Sara only saw him and she threw him a dark look, probably a warning not to get in her way. Then her eyes lit on Lilianna leaning against him with his arm around her, and her brows drew together in confusion and not a small amount of shock. He turned slightly and placed a kiss on top of Lilianna's head and sent Sara his own look that told her to leave his date alone. She inclined her head slightly once and turned back to once more face the door with Jake.

Lilianna looked up at him and smiled softly, thanks shining in her beautiful blue-green eyes. Nottingham smiled back and they both moved forward when the line started to enter the club. Lilianna froze again when she saw the man and woman doing pat downs just inside the door, but Nottingham tightened his hold on her slightly for just a moment.

For only her to hear, he said, "Don't worry, the only weapon on me is my katana, and they won't find it."

She relaxed. When it was their turn to go in the door, he handed over both of their IDs. They both stood with feet spread and arms up to be checked for weapons. Both of them moved away as quickly as possible from the unwelcome touch of unfamiliar hands. When he had paid the cover charge and they moved into the interior of the club, she reached for his hand and sighed with relief when it slipped easily into her grasp.

They had to walk past a bar to get to the dance floor, and Nottingham asked, "Do you want something? I don't drink."

Lilianna shook her head and her nose wrinkled slightly, "Jarod told me about the first time he had alcohol. If I ever do try it, it will be someplace where I know I'm safe and it doesn't matter if my judgment is impaired."

He felt a small surge of jealousy at the warmth in her tone when she spoke of Jarod, but he swallowed it. Jarod was her uncle, more like a father to her than anything else. And that was one role he did not want to fill in her life.

When they reached the dance floor, it was his turn to freeze.

She looked at him, "What is it?"

"I know ballroom dancing and other partner dance styles, but I've never danced on my own before."

Lilianna looked at the people on the floor. Most of them were separate entities as they moved, but there were couples who danced with their arms wrapped around each other.

She subtly pointed at one of them and assured him, "We'll just dance like that."

Effortlessly they turned one toward the other and moved into each other's arms. They moved fluidly through the other dancers until they were in the middle of the floor, each able to see a little more than an overlapping half of the club's interior over the other's shoulder. Lilianna watched her mother dancing with her father, keeping him on the other side of the dance floor. Sara looked at her every time she and Jake turned, a puzzled look on her face. After a few songs, Jake noticed the direction Sara was staring and said something to her. Sara shook her head, but Jake took hold of her hand and started dragging his partner toward Lilianna and Nottingham.

Jake smiled as he reached them, "Hey, Mr. Waters, right?"

"Call me Jonathan," Nottingham extended a hand, keeping Lilianna pressed to his side.

"This is my girlfriend, Angel DeCarlo."

Jake shook Nottingham's outstretched, gloved hand, and gestured toward Sara, "This is Sara, my..."

He stopped and looked at his partner, and despite the situation, Sara smiled at him.

To Lilianna and Nottingham, she said, "His girlfriend."

Jake offered to get them all something, but Sara and Nottingham politely refused. Lilianna asked shyly for a water, and Jake walked away toward the bar smiling.

Sara looked uncomfortable for a full minute before finally saying, "You look really familiar to me, Miss DeCarlo. Have we met before?"

Before Lilianna could reply, Nottingham answered for her, "I don't think so, she just came here from Delaware two days ago, and I don't believe you've ever been to Delaware, have you, Detective Pezzini?"

Sara shook her head. "Still, there's something..."

Jake showed up just then and handed a water bottle to Lilianna, "It was nice meeting you, Angel, Jonathan. Maybe we'll all run into each other again some time, but I'm sure I speak for us all when I say we'd like to get back to our dates."

Jake and Sara walked away to another part of the dance floor, and Lilianna turned back to Nottingham, "Why didn't you let me just tell her?"

A muscle in his jaw jumped and he answered, "As soon as Sara knows who you are, she won't let me anywhere near you. I'm not ready to give you up yet."

Lilianna nodded and relaxed. She had met her mother face to face and nothing had happened. She could stop worrying, at least for now. She turned back into Nottingham's arms and concentrated on him, the bottle of water dropped and forgotten. With their arms and bodies wrapped around each other, she felt right, completely at home, for the first time. She wondered if he felt the same. The warmth in his eyes as they danced let her hope, and she concentrated on enjoying being with him for a few hours. By midnight, she knew his body as well as her own from being pressed to him more and more intimately as time passed. She had long since stopped caring about what anyone else was doing, wrapped up completely in him.

Nottingham nuzzled her cheek with his and dipped his head to bring his lips equal with her ear. If he had not been holding her up, if she had not been straddling his powerful thigh, she would have melted to the floor in a puddle. He whispered in a rush of air that fanned over her neck, "Pretend to kiss me."

She pulled her head back slightly and stared at him with passion-glazed eyes. "Why pretend?"

"We have more than one audience, and your mother is too busy staring at us again to realize that we've been selected as the next victims. But we'll only keep his attention if we appear to be a couple. It would be better for us to be in the line of fire than two innocents."

She felt a flare of anger, and inwardly cursed at the unfairness of this situation. She wanted Nottingham. Wanted to kiss him, to be with him, with an intensity that frightened her. But he wanted her to pretend to kiss him, to pretend to love him, so they could stop a serial killer. The problem was that though he might be able to pretend, she didn't need to. She was already desperately in love with him, and it terrified her. Closing her eyes to hide her feelings, she reached out her senses with the Witchblade to find the killer. He was watching them, and, just as Nottingham had said, his attention seemed about to waver. She opened her eyes to look into Nottingham's.

"I've never kissed anyone before," she brokenly confessed. "I wouldn't know how to pretend."

The fire in his eyes flared brighter than ever and he moved one hand down to cup her bottom and bring her tighter against him.

"Then we won't pretend."

She gazed at him with a question in her eyes that he wasn't sure how to answer. He kept his left hand on her firm bottom, keeping her pressed as intimately against him as was possible with the layers of clothes between them. Her feminine heat was pressed high on his thigh where she straddled him, and his arousal was straining against her hip. She gasped at the sensations flooding her all the way to her core. She was now pressed fully against his rock hard body from thighs to collarbone.

He lifted his right hand from its place at her waist and gently thread his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head. He tightened his hold just a little to tip her head back. Her eyes drifted closed and her lips parted slightly. He lowered his mouth over hers and she made a soft sound of need. He moaned against her mouth in answer and swept his tongue over the parted seam of her lips. A flood of overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation made the room seem to spin. When she gasped and writhed slightly against him, trying to get closer still, he somehow knew that she had felt it too.

His tongue entered her mouth slowly and she went a little wild, raking her nails down his muscular back. He had no doubt that if he hadn't had his shirt on, she would have broken the skin. As it was, he would probably have faint marks.

He pulled away from her then and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead when she moaned in frustration.

He found his voice enough to say, "Let's go."

Confusion and pain warred in her eyes, but she nodded and they made their way through the crowd. Nottingham kept her hand in his, hoping the trap they were setting wouldn't backfire on them. They passed Sara and her partner on the way to the door, and it was Jake who noticed a minute later that they had been followed.


	8. Chapter 8

"Sara, that's the killer."

She opened her mouth to argue with Jake; Nottingham was many things, but he wasn't a serial killer, not the textbook definition anyway. He was an assassin; the two things were similar, but not. Then she realized that there was a man following Nottingham and the woman he called Angel.

For an instant she almost felt sorry for the serial killer. He was about to tangle with the wrong man. But then she realized that Nottingham might not be able to fight the man if he had to worry about the safety of his date. And there was no way of knowing how much the girl knew about him, or how much he would be willing to expose. Jake had already started pulling her toward the door, and she quickened her pace.

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Lilianna let out a strangled scream when Nottingham suddenly let go of her hand and crumpled to the ground. They were almost to the far end of the parking lot and the streetlight overhead was out. Praying that he was just putting on a show for the killer, she whirled around. He was right there, a lead pipe in his hands. He was huge, easily seven feet tall and built like a freight train. Her eyes widened in real fear. The Witchblade wouldn't activate. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw why.

Her parents were running toward them, guns drawn. Witnesses, something her Witchblade knew they could not afford. Especially these witnesses. Evidently believing that Lilianna was paralyzed with fear, the huge killer raised the thick, lead pipe over his head, about to bring it down in a killing blow to Nottingham's still head. Lilianna threw herself in the way, on top of Nottingham. She would have killed the man instantly with her bare hands for daring to even think of harming the man she loved, but that would be hard to explain to the two detectives and the cops who were bound to show up.

The next moment her mother's strong voice cut through the air, "Freeze bastard. NYPD."

"Not this time, pig." The new voice startled them all and everyone but Nottingham turned to see a group of gang bangers, all of them with automatics. "We're takin' him out. No one kills on our turf but us. If you two cops drop your guns and play nice, maybe we won't blow you away too."

Nottingham stirred beneath her and Lilianna moved slowly off him, trying not to draw attention to them.

"Nah, man," another of the gang members argued. "They're cops and they seen us. We gotta take care of 'em. The two on the ground, too."

While the second youth had spoken, the serial killer had been slowly backing away.

Jake trained his weapon back on the killer and hissed, "Stay still, you sick scumbag."

Sara's dark brows drew tighter together and she held her gun pointed toward the gang, not aiming at any one member in particular. This was not going well. Where was their back-up?

Nottingham whispered softly to Lilianna, "Take care of your parents, Angel. I'll be fine."

She nodded and squeezed his hand before he reached for his katana. She stood, but at the exact same moment, before she had time to reach out, the serial killer leapt on top of Jake, knocking him out. Sara turned and shot him in the leg. The man howled with pain and rolled off of Jake. Sara ran to her partner and knelt beside him. When Nottingham and Lilianna saw her sigh of relief, Nottingham stood up and unzipped Lilianna's dress in one smooth motion. He stepped in front of her as it fell to the ground, his katana drawn.

"Are you fucking crazy, man?" the first gang member, evidently the leader, spat.

Nottingham lowered his head to stare at the teenager from under his thick, black eyebrows.

"Yes."

The leader started for an instant, swore, and then opened fire. The rest of his group followed suit. By that time, Lilianna had her dress off and full Witchblade armor on. She stepped out from behind Nottingham to block any bullets aimed at her parents. Nottingham glanced at her quickly and drew in a breath. With her hair down and loose and the fire of battle in her eyes, she looked like a warrior goddess. He heard gasps among the gang members. They must think so too.

When the gang saw that Nottingham was catching bullets in his hand and ricocheting others off his blade, and that none of the ones aimed at Lilianna were getting past her armor, they started backing up. With the youths more spread out, the bullets were further apart and harder to stop. One of them made it through Lilianna and Nottingham's defenses and struck the serial killer right between the eyes, stopping him permanently as he tried to get up. Another cut through Nottingham's upper arm and he grunted. Lilianna jerked in place, wanting desperately to help him, but needing to stay in front of her parents.

Sara suddenly raced forward, her gauntlet and blade drawn. She blocked bullets as she ran at the youths, and they scattered, yelling obscenities as they disappeared into the night. A moment later a siren screamed and Lilianna spotted flashing lights headed their way. She turned toward Sara, her eyes wary.

Sara frowned at her, "I don't know who you are, or if that's what I think it is, but if you don't say anything to the cops about this," she raised her wrist that was now covered only by a bracelet, "I won't mention yours. But we _will_ talk. Soon."

Lilianna nodded in acceptance and moved over to Nottingham. His katana was out of sight again and he was holding a hand over his wound. The Witchblade returned to being her rings and she slipped the dress back on, her bra and panties still intact. Seeing that Nottingham was injured, Sara hurried over and zipped up the dress for her. Lilianna murmured a soft thank you to her mother and turned back to Nottingham.

Familiar now with the need in her eyes and needing her too, he pulled her close with his good arm and let her snuggle against his chest, resting his head atop hers. Lilianna moved her arms to encircle his waist and sighed. All her hasty plans were being disrupted and she was beginning to think that even preventing her own birth wouldn't stop the events that had led to such chaos in her own time. But how could she, just one person, one mortal female, save the whole world when even Eve, who was as unstoppable as Glory in her own way, hadn't been able to?

Add to that the concerns she had about disrupting the lives of her family and the man she loved, and she was definitely in deep. And now she was going to have to deal with the police. Hopefully Nottingham's contacts were as good as he said they were and her identification would hold up if there was any scrutiny. His, too. Jonathan Waters and Angel DeCarlo were witnesses to a shoot out involving homicide detectives, gang members that had fled the scene, and a suspected serial killer, now deceased.

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Jake let out a moan and Sara rushed over to help him sit up.

"What happened?" he asked after he noted that Waters and his girlfriend appeared to be none the worse for the wear and the nightclub killer was dead.

"We had a little shoot out, but the gang decided killing all of us wasn't important enough to get caught over," Sara said. "N ... Mr. Waters has an injury but otherwise we're all okay."

Jake nodded and grimaced as he reached back and felt the knot forming on the back of his head where he had struck the ground. Why was it that he always got knocked out or held back when Sara was in danger? It was frustrating not to be able to protect the woman he loved. Almost as frustrating as the fact that most of the time she didn't need his protection. Smiling lopsidedly at how mad she'd get if she knew his thoughts, he stood up and dusted off his pants.

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A moment later, three squad cars and Dante's dark sedan pulled up, followed by an ambulance. The other officers and the Chief climbed out of their vehicles with guns ready, but slowly put them away when they assessed the situation. An EMT led Nottingham to the back of the ambulance to clean and bandage his wound. The bullet had gone straight through the muscle, and though it would hurt for awhile, there would be no permanent damage. A uniformed officer took Nottingham and Lilianna's statements as the EMT stitched his wound shut and they were told that they could leave.

As they walked toward Nottingham's car, Sara jogged up to them. "How will I get a hold of you?"

Her question had been aimed at Lilianna, but Nottingham was the one who answered.

"I'll contact you in a few days. She's been through enough for now."

Sara's jaw tightened in anger, but she nodded her acceptance and moved away to rejoin her partner at the back of the ambulance, where a tech was checking his vision. She would have argued with Nottingham, but he and the girl had undoubtedly saved Jake and herself, and she owed them at least this courtesy. She'd give them two days before she'd track them down through Irons or by herself. Thinking back to Angel's strange armor, so like the very thing Irons wanted most in the world, she decided that going to Irons would only be a final resort.


	9. Chapter 9

Jake McCartey's Apartment  
New York, NY  
early Wednesday, July 25, 2001  
1:11 am

"Do you think she works for Irons?"

Maria Bouzanis' spirit was perched on Jake's kitchen counter, swinging her legs back and forth.

She rolled her eyes at Sara's question, "If he had someone as powerful as her on his payroll, why would he bother with you?"

"But she's with Nottingham. You should have seen them, Maria. It was like the rest of the world didn't exist. I thought Irons had always kept Ian on a very short leash, not allowing him female companionship. But the way he was acting with that Angel girl ... "

"You were right to think Nottingham is inexperienced, Sara. If I was still alive I would have done anything to get my hands on that man and show him what was what."

Maria let out a lusty whistle then waited a beat to show that what she was about to say she was serious about.

"Have you considered that maybe the two of them are in love? He certainly wouldn't know what is or isn't considered too much in public. Do you and Jake pay any attention to anything besides each other when you're alone together?"

Maria motioned toward the hall and Jake's bedroom, where Sara had left him snoring softly.

"No," Sara admitted with a Cheshire Cat grin. After a moment she frowned, "What about Angel, though? Jake said he cut short socializing with them because every time I looked at her she looked like a deer caught in headlights."

Maria put a finger to her lips and motioned to the hall again. Half a minute later, Jake opened the bedroom door and yawned.

"Sara?"

She smiled. She loved the way he said her name. She met him in the hall as he started to walk toward the kitchen.

"Hey, rookie, I was just getting some water. Let's get back in bed."

He ran a hand over his every-which-way blonde hair and grunted, "Sleep is good."

Sara swatted his naked rear playfully, whispering in his ear, "Who said anything about sleep?"

Suddenly awake, he grinned and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. Sara laughed helplessly and the Stone of the Blade glowed happily as Jake carried her back to his bed.

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Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
late Tuesday, July 23 thru  
early Wednesday, July 25, 2001

Lilianna indulged herself enough to sleep snuggled up to Nottingham. She could have lost him, and that was something she knew she wouldn't live through. Her head rested on his shoulder, and in her sleep one of her legs hitched up and draped over both of his. Her right arm had started out wrapped around his waist, but ended up resting on his chest, her fingers curling in and out of his chest hair sporadically. Having gotten more than the amount of sleep he was used to the afternoon and night before, he watched her while she slept. He was content for once to lie almost helpless, with her sprawled across him. Around three in the morning, her fingers suddenly tightened into a fist in his chest hair and he flinched at the unexpected pain. She peered up at him with wide, frightened eyes and he noticed that the Witchblade's Stones were pulsing brightly.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"Irons."

The one word was enough. When Nottingham had first started living on his own, Irons had stopped by unexpectedly several times to check up on him. It made sense that he would do so now when Nottingham wasn't behaving true to his training. He hadn't checked in since Irons had first found out about the woman in his life. Irons was used to him checking in multiple times in a day. He swore softly and cupped her head so that her eyes met his again.

After a moment some of the fear went out of the blue depths and he asked her, "Can you hide the Blade? He's sure to notice it if you don't."

Immediately the Witchblade seemed to melt from her fingers.

He frowned, "Where did it go?"

"Inside me," she whispered. "I can only hold it there for a short time, though. He'll leave soon, won't he?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

She smiled softly at him and his heart swelled. As much as she probably shouldn't, she was willing to place her very life in his hands.

He grasped the hem of her nightgown and answered the question in her eyes, "He thinks we're...intimate. It's the only reason he's allowed me to be with you. He might be here because he suspects something else is going on. If that is the reason he's here and he sees us together this way, he'll leave sooner."

She nodded in agreement and sat up so he could pull the garment over her head. She was naked underneath. When the nightgown was off, he tenderly cupped her jaw and kissed her lips softly.

"I won't let him hurt you."

She kissed him back and refuted his promise, "If something does happen, I don't want you doing anything to risk your life. We at least know you have one." He opened his mouth to protest, but she kissed him again, tears coming to her beautiful eyes, "I couldn't go on, even for the short time I have left, if something happened to you."

He returned her kiss, his tongue sweeping between her lips to gently explore her mouth as he pulled off the sweats he had taken to wearing to bed since meeting her. Had it really only been two days? He could no longer imagine his life without her in it. Keeping his arms around her, he pulled her down on top of him as he lay back on the pillows. For a moment she melted against him, her curves fitting perfectly against his body, but then she stiffened.

He was afraid for a minute that perhaps he had done something wrong, until she lifted her mouth away from his to ask softly, "What if he sees my scars?"

"I don't think we should risk it," Nottingham agreed in a whisper and rolled them both so she was beneath him.

She wrapped her arms around his back and smiled tenderly up at him. With his hair falling freely in a curling curtain around their faces, it was almost as if they were in their own private world. He dipped his head to take her mouth once more, unleashing all the passion he felt for her. Lilianna moaned with pleasure and eagerly returned his kiss, running her hands up and down his bare, muscled back. He involuntarily moved his hips against hers and she gasped, throwing her head back and exposing her throat to his exploring mouth.

Her breath was coming in harsh gasps now and she arched into him, her body sensing what her innocent conscious mind could not understand she needed. Him. Inside her. She tried to wrap her legs around his hips, but he stilled her movement by gently running a hand down her thigh. She moaned his last name in frustration, and a dry, hollow laugh sounded from across the room.

They both froze as Irons' voice reached them, "I never would have pegged you as a tease, Ian."

Nottingham yanked up the blankets to cover Lilianna from Irons' cold gaze before slipping on his sweats and standing next to the bed in the waiting stance of the Black Dragons. Out of the corner of his eye, he checked on Lilianna. She was sitting up, the blankets clutched tightly against her. Her face was flushed and her hair mussed, and she looked very much as if she had just been made love to. She was staring at Irons with a mixture of wariness and fear in her eyes, which was an appropriate reaction.

Irons studied her for a minute and she looked away, pulling the blankets tighter around her.

Irons' eyebrows lifted slightly and he turned to Nottingham, "I can certainly see the attraction, but she doesn't look homeless to me."

"She wasn't always homeless, she just fell on hard times."

It wasn't a lie. Lilianna had loved Jarod like a father and had felt at home with him until the world had started to be torn apart and she'd had to kill him. It was a good thing she had shared her story with him or Nottingham didn't know what he would have told Irons.

Irons made a noise in his throat, effectively dismissing the subject. "Sara Pezzini's partner has gone to California for a week to be with his dying aunt. You will have to keep an eye on her after all. I don't suppose there's any hope that you've gotten this girl out of your system yet?"

"No," Nottingham answered, almost too quickly.

"Very well," Irons sighed, "since I did tell you that you could have a week with her, I won't make you get rid of her yet, but you will not forsake your duties."

Nottingham dipped his head further and Irons, satisfied, left. Lilianna climbed from the bed, still naked except for the Witchblade rings which had reappeared the moment Irons left, and wrapped her arms around him. He sighed and looped his own arms around her waist. He rested his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes.

She smiled tenderly at him and asked teasingly, "So, you'll have me out of your system in five days?"

"Never," he growled, and they were both suddenly dead serious.

She turned her head away for a minute and blinked back tears, "I never meant to cause you more problems."

Nottingham's grip on her tightened.

"Never think for a single moment that you are a problem to me. You mean more to me than anyone I have ever known. More than I ever thought anyone _could_ mean to me."

Lilianna was rocked by his admission, and she collapsed against him. "How can I do what I must, knowing what I could have had? Knowing you?"

With a sob she tore away from him and ran to the weapons room. A minute later, she emerged, fully dressed.

She avoided his gaze, "I'm going to see my mother. I have to warn her about everything that will happen if she gets pregnant. Please, let me do this on my own."

Aching for her, for himself, and for everything they might have had if Fate had chosen to be kind to them instead of cruel, he let her go. When the door to the loft closed behind her, he sank down to sit on the floor, burying his face in his hands. Would she come back? With his admission hanging over her head, she might very well choose to stay with Sara. He could only wait and see.

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**NYPD 11th Precinct  
11th Street, New York, NY  
Wednesday, July 25, 2001  
12:30 pm**

When Lilianna asked for Detective Pezzini, Captain Bruno Dante leered at her from behind a counter and informed her, "Today is Detective Pet-zzini's day off. And her partner has been called away, so she may be taking a few more."

There was a pause and the dark man said, with a suggestive gleam in his cold eyes, "I might be able to help you. Just tell me what you need."

Lilianna smiled coldly, "That's quite all right, Captain, I'll just go see my sister at her apartment."

Dante stared at her for a full minute, "You do look a bit like her, but Sara Pet-zzini is an only child."

"Sara was adopted. She has a few brothers and another sister."

She left with Dante gawking after her and hurried to her mother's apartment. What the odious man didn't need to know was that Sara would not learn of her family until much later. Maybe she would go ahead and speed that up while she was here.


	10. Chapter 10

50 Chambers Street, Apt. 11  
New York, NY  
Wednesday, July 25, 2001  
1:11 pm

At the door, Lilianna hesitated with her fist raised to knock. What was she going to say? _Hi Mom, I'm the daughter I hope you never have_, just didn't seem like a great opening line. But there was no easy way to say any of what she needed to tell Sara. Then there was no time left to plot. Sara opened the door and Lilianna snatched her hand back down.

Sara stared at her oddly for a minute then ushered her inside, "Come in. Angel, isn't it?"

"Um...not really. For legal purposes, that's my name while I'm here, but it's not my real name."

"And your real name would be?"

Lilianna paced in the open area in front of the door for a second.

"We'll get to that later."

Sara frowned and her eyebrows lifted slightly, but she said nothing. Lilianna stopped pacing and took in her surroundings. Most of her mother's stuff was in boxes and there was an open suitcase half-filled with clothing on the couch.

"Going somewhere?"

"You met my partner, Detective McCartey. Jake and I are moving in together. Not that I see how it's any of your business or why I just told you that."

Lilianna frowned. How had this happened? In her timeline, they hadn't officially moved in together until they were married and knew about her. She blanched. Had she been sent back too late? But no, there was no ring on her mother's finger, and she had said nothing about getting married.

"Hey, are you all right? You don't look so hot."

There was genuine concern in her mother's voice and Lilianna had a sudden overwhelming urge to sit down and cry, to be comforted by her mother as she never had been growing up.

She fought it and avoided Sara's gaze, "I'll be okay. I just don't know how to say what needs to be said."

Sara moved the suitcase out of the way and they both sat on the couch. For a minute Lilianna froze up, realizing she had no idea what she was doing. She had never been good at strategy. Then the Witchblade decided to take over for her. _Both_ Witchblades to be accurate. They both grew into gauntlets on their owners' wrists, and Sara started and then stared at the similarities. Then Lilianna's gauntlet clamped down lightly on Sara's, and she knew it was telling her mother what she needed to know through it's parent.

When it was over, Sara looked at Lilianna with tears in her eyes.

"You're our daughter?"

Lilianna nodded and bit back a sob when her mother drew her close for the first hug they had ever shared.

Lilianna pulled back after a minute and asked softly, "So you understand that you can't get pregnant with me? You have to wait a little while to have kids."

Sara's Stone glowed brightly for a moment and she gasped.

One hand dropped to her abdomen and she whispered, "I'm already pregnant. It just happened last night."

Lilianna stood and began pacing. Sara looked thoughtful for a few minutes and then raised her gaze to her full-grown daughter.

"What would happen if we stopped Glory before she ever got the chance to wear the Witchblade?"

Lilianna frowned, "Glory is a god. How can we stop her? We don't even know where she is."

"I don't know, but if we did find her, could we beat her? Both of us? She couldn't get the Witchblade from me until I was dead. And now we each have a Witchblade, and I've fought the devil. Surely together we could destroy a lesser being?"

Lilianna stopped pacing and turned toward her mother, "The problem is, I don't know that she is lesser. She is completely evil, and half the time she's trapped in the body of a mortal man, but she also kills three Slayers and several Immortals over the next several years. In my timeline, she was deemed unstoppable. And I wouldn't know where to begin to look for her."

Sara looked pensive again and Lilianna wandered over to a picture of Jake. Picking the frame up, she was flooded with a sudden vision of her father bound and gagged.

Urgently, hoping she was wrong, she turned to her mother, "Where did Dad go?"

"To California to be with his aunt for a week, she's going in for some kind of surgery."

"Aunt Lilianna?"

"Yeah, that's the one, did we name you after her?"

"Yes, but she's as healthy as an ox. Someone has Dad."

Sara shot up off the couch and took the picture from Lilianna's hand. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

She set the picture back down, "I know where he is. It's one of the warehouses near the docks; it's next to a seafood restaurant that was shut down a year ago. Let's go."

"Wait, I think I know who has him and we're going to need help." She picked up Sara's phone and dialed. He didn't answer, his voice mail picking up after a few rings. "Nottingham, it's me. My father's been taken. I think Marcus has him and I could really use your help. Meet us down by the docks, near an old restaurant, if you get this."

Sara stared at her after she had hung up, "Why would we need his help?"

"Marcus is from my time. He has abilities that make him hard to see at times, but for some reason Nottingham can. We could have a lot of trouble getting Dad back if he doesn't show up."

"I still find it hard to believe that he died trying to save me and Jake."

"He's a good man," Lilianna said softly.

She hoped her mother wouldn't make her choose between them. If it came down to it, she would choose Nottingham in a heartbeat, and it would be a shame not to get to know her mother after everything that had happened.

"I don't think I like the idea of you shacking up with him, even if he is a good guy. He's an assassin, he works for Irons and he's a lot older than you."

Lilianna arched one eyebrow, "No offense _Mom_, but if I want to "shack up" with him it's my choice. I'm an assassin, too. Irons has already seen us together, and Nottingham made sure that nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. He would never betray me. And if it ever came down to it, Nottingham would die for me, just as I would for him. As you may be able to tell now, we're not that different, and he's only five years older than me right now..."

Sara decided to drop the subject for the time being, though she was stunned to learn that Nottingham was only twenty-nine, he had always somehow seemed ancient and timeless to her. She didn't like the thought of her daughter and the dark man together, but she could tell that whatever Lilianna felt for the assassin, it was real. She could only hope that Nottingham felt much the same way, and judging by his actions at the club the night before, she thought it was a safe bet. She couldn't be sure that it was a comforting thought, though.

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The warehouse was abandoned, as were those around it, and there didn't appear to be anyone around. When Lilianna undressed in the car, Sara cast a quizzical glance in her direction.

"The Witchblade sometimes shreds the clothes I have on, and I didn't bring a spare set with me."

"Why is your armor so different from mine? I only have armor when it's absolutely necessary, and even then its full, old-fashioned armor."

"I've had my Witchblade actively for eleven years, it's evolved several times during that time. Yours will probably do the same thing, though not exactly into what mine is. Mine isn't _the_ Witchblade, for want of a better word, it's the Witchblade's offspring."

Sara nodded and when Lilianna was in her full armor a second later they both climbed from the car, Sara with the gauntlet on one hand and her gun in the other. For a moment, Sara had a flashback to the night Conchobar died. She shook it off, knowing the love she felt for each man was very different, and hoping that having her daughter here to help her would keep Jake safe. Though even Nottingham's help hadn't been able to save Conchobar from his fate. As they moved into the interior, she saw Jake tied to a chair, a man she had never seen before holding a gun to his head.

Lilianna felt her mother's tension increase when they spotted the vision of Jake, but because of her previous experience training with Marcus, she knew it was just a psychic image.

She whispered, "It's not real."

Her mother looked confused for a moment and then nodded. The two of them walked forward again, only to have the vision vanish. They both stopped as they heard a strange click. Lilianna froze and put a stilling hand on Sara's arm. She had heard that noise before. She pointed to the floor. They had each stepped on some sort of trigger, and Lilianna lifted her gaze to scan the ceiling. A rope suspended Jake thirty feet above the floor, unconscious.

"McCartey, glad you could make it." Marcus stepped into view across the open expanse of the warehouse.

"What do you want, Marcus? Why are you doing this?"

Marcus laughed, a hollow sound, "You said to stay away from your mother, you didn't say anything about dear old Dad. And as for what I want, that's easy ... you."

"Me?"

Lilianna's confusion was clear, but her mother could easily see the lust in Marcus' gaze.

"You were supposed to be given to me. The Centre was very interested in what would happen if a Psychic Imager and a woman with the Witchblade bloodline and Pretender genes were mated. But you just had to refuse to have anything to do with the breeding program and they made me wait. I'm not waiting anymore. If you want Daddy to live, you'll give yourself to me."

Lilianna hesitated, revulsion sweeping through her. She swallowed hard and forced herself not to think of Nottingham.

"How can I do that if I'm standing on the trigger?"

"Give me your word that you'll do it and I'll release your trigger." Marcus saw Sara shift slightly. "But only yours. If Mommy moves, Daddy dies."

"Don't do it," Sara whispered. "There has to be another way."

Lilianna shook her head sadly, "Marcus is more unstable than I thought. Nottingham isn't here. I can't let Dad die."

To Marcus she said, "I promise if you let my parents live, I'll do whatever you want."

He pressed a button on a control box and when she stepped from the switch, nothing happened. She sighed with relief and began walking toward him. She knew he would not keep his promise, and she had no intention of keeping hers. She was stalling, pure and simple. She only hoped that something would happen to make the stall worthwhile.

"Deactivate it," he barked.

It took an immense effort to get the Blade to shrink back to rings, leaving her in panties and a bra; the Blade would rather have killed Marcus than let him near her. When she reached him he slapped neuro-cuffs on her wrists, and she wondered how, in this time, he had gotten his hands on the only thing that could stop the Witchblade from "waking up". He backed her into one of the warehouse's support columns and reached up a hand to touch her face. She flinched and he scowled at her, dropping his hand without touching her.

"Is this better?" he snarled, making himself look like Nottingham. Sara gasped and tears came to Lilianna's eyes. "I saw you leave with him. Who is he?"

When she turned her head away, not answering, he raised a hand toward her again.

"Don't touch her."

The growled words appeared an instant before Nottingham, who dropped from somewhere above them. Marcus, looking like himself again, stared at Nottingham for a moment, holding the control box out as if it would stop the man in black.

"You're Irons' henchman, the one who died before Mac was born. Do you know what Irons will do to you when he learns you've been helping her?"

"Let them go."

Nottingham's voice was ice cold, but his eyes drifted to Lilianna and she felt warmed. Everything would be all right now. He flung two knives toward her and the cuffs were broken. Instantly she was in full armor and running toward her mother. Nottingham kicked the control box from Marcus' hand and across the room. Lilianna slammed one of the knives Nottingham had freed her with through the trigger her mother stood on, using the added strength the Witchblade gave her to pierce the concrete floor beneath it. With the trigger held in place, Sara crossed the room to pick up the control box and began lowering Jake.

Lilianna turned to watch Marcus and Nottingham fight. Marcus should have had the advantage, having gone through the more advanced form of Black Dragon training and being a Psychic Imager. But the two men seemed to be pretty evenly matched. They traded blows and circled, neither one of them having a clear advantage.

Then Marcus described in vulgar terms exactly what he planned on doing to her, and Nottingham growled with rage. An instant later Marcus was lying on the ground, a stunned expression on his face. His shirt and chest were shredded to ribbons, but he was still alive. Nottingham moved forward to punish him further, but Lilianna stepped in front of him, putting a hand on his arm.

He stopped and stared at her for a moment. He must have seen what she intended to do, because he moved away.

Marcus gazed up at her with a relieved but slightly puzzled look, and she shook her head sadly, "Goodbye, Marcus."

Her claymore appeared and she severed his head from his body. Even if he was evil, he had grown up in the Centre, which was at least partially responsible for how he had turned out. No one deserved to suffer as much as the people in the Centre did, so she had chosen to end it quickly. A moment later, his body disappeared in a flash of white light.

Her armor disappearing once again, Lilianna turned to Nottingham, "Do you think that's how they'll take me?"

He grabbed her hard, squeezing her upper arms, "I told you I won't let them."

"Not even you can stop them, Nottingham," she said sadly. "I'm going with my parents for awhile. I've already been conceived, so I need to help find another way to defeat Glory."

He stared down at her and his breathing became uneven. She reached up and gently wiped the blood away from where his lip had been split by one of Marcus' punches. Closing his eyes, he kissed her fingers, a single tear running down his face.

"When will you come back to me?"

"I don't know," she answered softly, but they both knew she didn't plan on doing so at all.

He let go of her and moved away, shrinking into himself. Her heart broke, but she couldn't let things between them progress any further.

For only him to hear, she said, "As much as I wish I could stay with you forever, we both know that it isn't possible. It has to be this way."

She turned away from him to hide her fragile emotions and helped Sara untie Jake, who had been lowered to the ground and was now waking up. He didn't have any visible wounds except for the knot on the back of his head that the serial killer at the club had given him last night, and which Lilianna suspected had been aggravated once more by Marcus. He opened his eyes and stared with confusion at her underwear for a minute before turning his head and spotting Nottingham.

Recognition lit his features right before he said, "I remember you now; you're the one who knocked me out at the Rialto!"

Nottingham hung his head further and murmured just loud enough to be heard by all of them, "Do with me what you will."

Jake yanked Sara's gun away from her and pointed it at the dark man. Lilianna immediately moved to stand in the way; too shocked by her father's willingness to kill the man she loved over something so trivial to say anything.

Sara, on the other hand, did not lose her voice, "Let it go, rookie! If he had let you go in, Gallo would have killed you. While I'm sure there was another way to stop you from going in, it's the only way he knew."

Jake frowned and his jaw tightened, but he turned to Sara and gave her back the gun. Lilianna turned around to check on Nottingham, but he was gone. A hollow formed in the pit of her stomach, and she dejectedly followed her parents out to Jake's car. Taking her clothes out of the front seat so Jake could sit there with Sara, she pulled them back on and got into the back seat of the car.

Having heard what Lilianna had said to Dante when the Witchblades had connected, Sara continued the previous lie that "Angel" was her sister, here on an extended visit. Amazingly enough, Jake didn't ask any questions about her lack of clothing in the warehouse or what "Angel" had been doing with Nottingham or why she hadn't been introduced as Sara's sister at the club.


	11. Chapter 11

When they got back to Sara's place, the three of them finished packing up most of Sara's stuff and put it in the car. Sara gave Lilianna the keys to the apartment and told her she'd be back the next day so they could try to straighten things out. As her parents drove away, Lilianna hoped they would have a long talk and Sara would tell Jake about the Witchblade, but somehow she didn't think her mother was quite ready to share all of that with him.

After beating up on her mother's punching bag for awhile, Lilianna left the apartment to go for a run. When she returned two hours later, the things that Nottingham had bought for her, as well as the toothbrush she had used, all her forged papers, and some money and groceries were in the apartment. Her things were put away in the bathroom, in the kitchen and on the metal rack her mother had used for her own clothes before she moved. For awhile, she searched for a note, hoping he had left her at least a short one, but there was none.

The thing that cut her to the quick was her New York driver's license sitting on the counter. He had taken it out of his wallet to leave it there. Now he had nothing of hers. There was no evidence of her presence left with him. As if she had never been a part of his life. Perfunctorily changing into a fresh nightgown and feeling emptier than she ever had before, Lilianna curled up on the bed with the nightgown she had worn the night before clutched to her chest. It still carried his scent.

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**Jake and Sara's Apartment  
New York, NY  
Wednesday, July 25, 2001  
10:15 pm**

Sara watched with growing concern as Jake stopped pacing and pulled a gun out of a drawer. It wasn't department issue.

"Jake, what are you going to do with that?"

"What I should have done at the warehouse." He took three steps toward the door before she planted herself in front of him.

"You really think you can just find him and shoot him? He would tear you apart."

Jake glared at her.

"Sara, do you really think I would have even _made_ detective if I couldn't at least take care of myself? Besides, the guy said I could do whatever I wanted to him."

Sara stopped him from moving past her, placing her hand on his arm.

"You know who Kenneth Irons is, don't you?"

Jake sighed, exasperated.

"Of course, who doesn't? What does a billionaire have to do with anything?"

Then he remembered that Vorschlag, one of Irons' companies, owned the Rialto theater. Was that why the man in black had been there that day? Did he work for Irons?

"Ian Nottingham is Kenneth Irons' ... bodyguard. Irons has had Nottingham under his control since Nottingham was very young, and I'm sure he would take exception to your killing his pet project." Sara drew on the knowledge she had acquired from Lilianna's Witchblade to fill in some holes. "Several years ago, Nottingham was part of a secret Special Forces project to create super-soldiers called the Black Dragons. These men were trained, conditioned, brain washed and even genetically enhanced before the program was shut down. He probably knows hundreds of ways to kill you with his bare hands. I won't even go into his skill with weapons."

Jake stared at her, his jaw slack.

"But even all that isn't truly important. What's important is that Nottingham is special to L ... Angel. If you hurt the man she loves, she will never forgive you, and neither will I."

Jake found his voice.

"Are you sure it isn't _you_ he's important to? We both know your penchant for bad boys like Conchobar. Maybe you're just now remembering that I'm not your type."

Now he had done it. He had let his insecurities where she was concerned come out. He was so sick of hiding who he really was from her, tired of playing the doofus. But more than just his job was on the line here. A sudden flash of red light startled him, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. It must have been a side effect of hitting his head again. He turned his attention back to his girlfriend. Sara's jaw was clenched.

"Sara, I..."

"No, Jake. If you don't realize how much I love you, then you have problems that I can't help you with. I have too many problems of my own right now to try to deal with whatever yours are. The past two days have been the strangest of my life. I find out someone I thought was nothing more than a puppet actually has very strong feelings of his own, you almost get killed by a serial killer who wound up dead after a shoot-out, I find out I have a dau ... sister, and that she's already more entwined in my little world than most of the people I've known all my life, I find out about my birth family ... "

"Did you know I have a fraternal twin sister named Emily, a brother named Jarod, a half-brother named Ethan, and another brother named Kyle who's been dead for two years? Did you know that my parents and my siblings have all been separated for most of their lives and that they're all being hunted by some _very_ evil people? That I might never get the chance to meet _any_ of them?" Sara took a breath and kept going. "Of course you don't, you were called away by your sick aunt who was actually a psycho obsessed with Angel! He could have killed you. And, on top of everything else, I'm ... "

Sara stopped cold. She couldn't tell him about their child. She was only one day pregnant. If she told him that, she would have to tell him everything. What if he didn't believe her? She couldn't lose him because he suddenly thought she was nuts.

"You're what?"

"Nothing." She bit off. "The only thing you need to know about Nottingham is that he has saved my life, and yours, several times and that he and Angel mean a lot to each other."

"Is he the reason we didn't end up dead when that gang showed up outside the club?"

"Yes."

It was over-simplifying what had happened, but Jake didn't need to know that.

"What about this guy that took me?"

"Marcus," Sara supplied.

"First or last name?"

Jake pondered searching the police database for him.

Sara shrugged. "You don't need to worry about him. He's gone for good."

"What do you mean? Did Nottingham kill him? I didn't see a body in the warehouse."

"No, Nottingham didn't kill him. Just trust me, Marcus won't be bothering you again."

"Sara ... "

"Jake, I'm tired and I have a lot to think about. Are we done fighting?"

"Aren't you concerned that Nottingham might hurt your sister? He's a dangerous man."

Sara snorted. Jake frowned.

Sara said, "He's probably one of the most dangerous men in the world, but he would never hurt Angel. Never. He isn't capable of it."

Jake opened his mouth to argue that cryptic remark, then thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was to be on Sara's bad side. Maybe he should steer the conversation away from Nottingham.

"What about Angel? Did you know she was your sister last night?"

"No, she came to talk to me just before we had to go get you back from Marcus."

"That's another thing, why would he take me? _I_ don't mean anything to your sister." Something indefinable flashed in Sara's eyes at his words. "It doesn't make sense."

"He was a psycho, they rarely make sense. Now, can we please go to bed and put the idea of retaliation against Nottingham out of your mind?"

Jake sighed, "Sure." He paused. "I love you, Sara."

"I love you, too."

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Lilianna opened her eyes to find herself in the Oracles' hall. The naturally glowing white stones that made up the walls were faded, no longer glowing, and the Oracles were no where in sight. Who or what had brought her here? And why? Were they actually going to tell her how she could stop Glory? Why hadn't they brought her here as soon as she came to this time? She was glad they hadn't, though. If they had, Marcus would have killed her mother and she might never have met Nottingham.

"Hello?"

Her own voice echoed back to her as she stood.

A masculine voice answered after a full minute. "Hello, Lilianna."

Lilianna turned around and gasped. "Jarod!"

She had taken two steps toward him before realizing this wasn't the Jarod of her time. Yet he still seemed to know her. Jarod beckoned her forward and she went happily. Perhaps the Oracles had filled him in on the future and were allowing him to help.

As soon as Jarod's arms wrapped around her, she knew something was wrong. She felt a pinch on her neck and pushed away from him with all her strength. Vampire Jarod grinned at her, her blood dark red on his mouth. Lilianna, growing weaker by the moment, felt warm wetness slide down her neck and over her collarbone.

"Don't worry," vampire Jarod laughed. "You won't be the first to die."

When he pointed behind her, she turned slowly, afraid of who she would find. Nottingham was being held by a female vampire she didn't recognize as one from her own time. The short blonde smiled evilly and sank her fangs into Nottingham's neck.

"No!" Lilianna screamed. She tried to activate the Witchblade and realized suddenly that she no longer had it. She was powerless to stop them. Nottingham collapsed at the blonde's feet, and the vampiress beckoned Lilianna toward her.

Another blonde showed up, this one human, a Slayer, Lilianna quickly realized when the girl dusted Jarod and the female. The Slayer checked the bite wounds on Lilianna and Nottingham's necks, muttering, "they won't rise again," as she walked away.

Lilianna fell to her knees beside Nottingham's still form. He was pale, completely washed out. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he smiled sadly up at her.

"You didn't fight back," she accused softly as she lifted his head onto her lap.

"It's better this way," he wheezed painfully. "I got to know you, I didn't have to spend much time without you, and now I'm free..."

After two more gasping breaths, Nottingham slipped away, his skin turning cold right away. Lilianna sobbed uncontrollably, rocking slightly. Death could not come soon enough.

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Lilianna sat bolt upright as the Witchblade gently warned her of an intruder. She was in her mother's old apartment, the Witchblade was on her fingers, and there was no bite mark on her neck. She was still sobbing. It had been the worst dream she had ever had. It was pitch black. As soon as the strong arms of the man whose death she had just dreamt wrapped around her, she lay down, clinging to him. She allowed Nottingham to comfort her, regretting that she had ever left him. Eventually she drifted into an undisturbed sleep.

When she woke in the morning, he was already gone. He had come because she had needed him. That was the way he was. Now that she was fully awake, she remembered that no matter how much it hurt her, being away from him was the best thing for him. Her feelings didn't matter compared to the risk of hurting him. And as much as both of them were hurting now, the pain would increase exponentially the more time they spent together.


	12. Chapter 12

50 Chambers Street, Apt. 11  
New York, NY  
Thursday, July 26, 2001  
5:45 pm

When someone knocked on the door of the apartment, Lilianna's heart lifted for a split second before she realized that Nottingham wouldn't have bothered with knocking, or even with the door. She looked through the peephole and saw Sara standing with a brown grocery bag in one arm. Lilianna opened the door quickly and shut it as her mother moved toward the kitchen. She followed Sara into the kitchen area and watched as Sara put a few frozen pizzas and a couple bottles of soda away.

"A non-cooking person's sustenance. I would have brought beer for myself, but I didn't think it would be good for you."

Sara dropped her hand to rest lightly on where Lilianna's much younger self was growing in answer to her daughter's confused look. Sara hesitated a moment and pulled two picture frames out of the bag.

"I thought you might like pictures of your father and I. Unfortunately, we don't have any of the two of us together yet, but I thought these would be a good start."

Lilianna took the pictures and studied them. The first was of Sara smiling and straddling her motorcycle. The second was of Jake, obviously awhile before, as his blonde hair hung slightly past his shoulders. He was standing on a beach with a large wooden object next to him.

"Is that a giant tongue depressor?"

Sara laughed out loud, answering after a minute, "Never seen a surfboard, huh? That's actually what's called a long board. Your father was a surfing champion several years back. Tongue depressor. That's great, I'll have to tell Jake that one."

Lilianna allowed one corner of her mouth to turn up. Jake would probably be deeply offended.

"Thank you, Mom."

"No prob." Sara leant against the counter before asking, "So, do you have any idea how we should start this?"

"I thought we'd start with good old-fashioned book research. I made a list of old book stores from the phone book, and I thought you could check them out during your free time since I don't really know New York that well. I'll be going to the library starting tomorrow. Irons has a book of prophecies about the Witchblade, so it seems like there's at least a chance that books on demon gods or Hellmouths exist somewhere."

"It's as good a plan as any for now," Sara agreed.

She had been studying Lilianna as she spoke and she could tell that her daughter was hurting, only putting effort into this because of the magnitude of the problem's importance. As she popped one of the pizzas into the oven for dinner, she began regaling Lilianna with stories of some of her weirder cases as a Homicide detective, not mentioning Nottingham's limited appearances during most of her cases. Her daughter laughed and gasped in all the right places, but Sara couldn't help but know that her heart wasn't really in it. She sighed internally. If Nottingham really meant that much to Lilianna, perhaps she could get used to the idea of having him be a part of her life.

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Later that night, after her mother had gone home to Jake, Lilianna left the apartment with the intention of going for a walk. Instead of going down to street level, she climbed the stairs to the roof access. Once she stood on the roof, she was disappointed to notice that none of the adjacent roofs were the same height, all of them at least three stories higher. She wouldn't be able to leap from one to the other.

It would have been a different story if they had been lower than the one she was on. She had been trained to drop six stories without injury. Sighing, she walked to the edge of the roof and perched on the short wall that guarded against the five story drop below. She had always felt free up high. She supposed it had to do with living most of her life on Sub-Level 12, underground.

Although she had felt him coming, she didn't move until the last possible second. Even then, it was only to tilt her head slightly, smiling as his bullet whistled just past her ear. The next second she was standing on the roof, the crossbow bolt meant for her heart clenched in her hand. The Dragon now facing her had already holstered his gun, and now he tossed his crossbow aside. They both knew it would take too long to reload it. She tossed the bolt to one side. She could have thrown it at him and killed him with it with the Witchblade's help, but he still meant something to Nottingham. She wouldn't kill him unless it was absolutely necessary.

"So," he sneered. "You _are_ one of us. Even when he told us, we didn't believe there could be a female among the ranks. "

"He?" she queried, hoping with everything in her that he didn't mean Irons.

"Marcus sends his regards."

Relieved, Lilianna shrugged.

"He's dead. Are you Talon Green or Lennox McGill? Obviously you're not Hector Mobius."

"Green. Did Ian kill him?"

She shook her head.

"No, I did. Did Marcus ask you to kill me if his plan didn't work?"

"Nah. He wanted us to help him capture you for his own purposes a couple days ago, but we draw the line at having anything to do with rape."

"Good to know," she said dryly.

Before she could ask him anything more, Green rushed her. Lilianna braced herself, and when he swung at her, she dodged his fist and grabbed his arm, using his own strength to flip him flat onto his back on the roof. She stood out of reach, waiting. He sprang up quickly but approached more cautiously this time. He jabbed quickly, bringing his hand back without making contact. Lilianna snapped a kick into his gut, sending him flying a few feet. Again, she waited.

Green got up and glared at her.

"What are you waiting for? Fight me."

This time Lilianna attacked, getting several punches and jabs past his blocking arms and knocking him to the ground again with a roundhouse kick. She knelt down abruptly, straddling him, and he took the opportunity to punch her in the face. She barely flinched, raising one eyebrow at him. She struck a pressure point in his neck that left him unable to move his legs, pinning his arms with her knees.

"Now listen to me. Marcus was insane, more cracked than all of the original Black Dragons put together. What he probably failed to mention is that our training and conditioning were more advanced than yours. Alone, you cannot beat me."

"Why aren't you killing me?"

"It would hurt Nottingham if I did."

"Why? Cause he wouldn't get to do it himself?"

"Green." Lilianna sighed. "What makes Nottingham different from the rest of you?"

"His unconditional loyalty to Irons."

"Exactly. No matter how much he might want to do otherwise, he has no choice when Irons gives him an order, just as Mobius has no choice once he accepts a mission. The unit is the closest thing to friends or family that Nottingham ever had. He didn't want to kill the others, and he doesn't want any of you three dead. He just doesn't have a choice."

Green was silent and Lilianna hoped he was truly considering what she had told him.

"If I let you go, will you leave the city? There are plenty of other places for the three of you to stir up trouble, and as long as Irons knows you're not in New York, you're safe from Nottingham."

After a full minute, Green nodded. Lilianna released the pressure point in his neck and got off of him quickly, remaining on alert in case he went back on his word.

Retrieving his crossbow, Green said, "I can see why Marcus was so intent on having you."

Lilianna raised her eyebrows at the dubious compliment. Green grinned and leapt from the roof. She didn't relax until she could no longer sense him, then she went inside. Briefly touching the pictures of her parents, she hoped Nottingham's former brothers-in-arms would indeed leave the city.

Despite what she had told Green, she might need her mother's help against Mobius, and she didn't want to draw any extra attention to Sara from Irons, which would undoubtedly be immense if the Black Dragons ended up dead without Nottingham killing them. Sighing, Lilianna locked up the apartment. She took a quick shower, her movements perfunctory, before crawling into bed, a book Sara had left behind her only companion.


	13. Chapter 13

**1111 Faust Street  
New York, NY  
Saturday, July 28, 2001  
6:15 pm**

Kenneth Irons watched with growing trepidation as Nottingham defended himself from the attack of three of Irons' regular bodyguards. Irons often set up these exercises to test how good his employees were. Nottingham was allowed only to defend himself, while the others were encouraged to attack him with everything they had.

Nottingham was defending himself as thoroughly as usual, easily repelling all advances, but the movements he made were mechanical. Irons knew from many years studying the way the younger man did things that something was very wrong. Nottingham loved to fight. He was good at it, as he should be; after all, it was in his blood. There was always a light in his eyes as he fought, but that light was absent now. Nottingham was obeying, nothing more. And that could lead to costly mistakes.

Could his protégé really have fallen in love with the girl he was calling Angel? Irons had thought all the brainwashing and conditioning against all women but the Wielder he had given Nottingham from infancy was too strong for any woman but Sara to overcome.

Irons knew Angel had left Nottingham after helping Sara Pezzini rescue her "rookie" partner. He also knew that the very same night Nottingham had gone to her in the early morning at Sara's former apartment and had stayed for several hours. What Irons didn't understand was why the girl had told Bruno Dante that she was Sara's sister. Whoever Angel was, she wasn't Emily, the only sister Sara had. And why was Sara helping the young woman? It wasn't out of character for the Wielder to help a young woman in need, so he wasn't quite as worried about that as he was about Nottingham's sudden and deep attraction to her.

Until he could find out more, encouraging Nottingham to stay in contact with Angel might be the best way to keep an eye on her. Irons didn't dare send anyone other than Nottingham to tail Sara, it would upset the Witchblade, so no one would be able to keep an eye on Angel either while she was around Sara.

When Nottingham accidentally applied too much pressure and broke the arm of one of the men attacking him, Irons called the exercise to a halt and sent the other three men away. Nottingham resumed his place in the lighted alcove on the other side of the room, head down, without the slightest hint of the rebellious stance he had assumed since Sara's introduction to the Witchblade.

"I received a report two days ago that Green had been spotted in the city, then nothing. Did you run into him and take care of him?"

"No, Mr. Irons. I was unaware any of my old unit was in New York. If I had seen him, I would not have killed him, but reported his presence to you, as you called off my hunt for the other Black Dragons last year when Lady Sara first received the Witchblade."

"Perhaps he finished his business and left," Irons mused, though he knew that wasn't true. Green had not called for his money, and according to reports, Angel was still very much alive. Something had happened to the Black Dragon, and now he had no way of finding out what. "If any of them show up again and you run into them, I want you to take care of them."

Nottingham made no move, knowing it wasn't necessary to vocally acknowledge the order.

"Perhaps I was hasty in allowing you only a week with your lovely companion." Nottingham's head snapped up in surprise before he remembered himself. He hung his head again, but Irons could see that he now had Nottingham's full attention. "I think we should have a small dinner party and get to know each other, say Sunday the twelfth? I will send an invitation to the lovely Sara and her partner as well, shall I?"

Nottingham couldn't think of an excuse to give his master. He didn't want to admit that Lilianna had left him when he hoped with everything in him that she would come back to him. Somehow he felt that saying that she was no longer with him would force that fact to remain true.

Then he realized that the dinner would probably be called off when Sara refused to come. Sara and the Witchblade were the real reason for this party, not his master's sudden inexplicable interest in Lilianna. So he kept silent and let go of worrying about it, sinking slowly back into the void his existence had become since Lilianna had walked away from him.

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**The Magic Box  
Sunnydale, CA  
Saturday, July 28, 2001  
early afternoon**

"Yes, thank you, I'll look into it."

A man in his forties set down the phone handset and took off his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"What is it, Giles?"

The woman who had spoken looked around twenty-five, but her eyes held the wisdom of more years than any mortal could fathom.

"Oh, Mara. I didn't see you. It was the Council. Someone in New York has been making inquiries on books about demon gods, and they thought perhaps it had something to do with Glory."

"New York? I'll go if you'd like. There are things there I need to take care of anyway."

Giles slipped his glasses back on.

"Thank you, I really didn't want to have to go out there with all that's going on here in Sunnydale."

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**middle-class neighborhood, outside  
New York, NY  
Sunday, July 29, 2001  
2:11 pm**

Sara was studying the ground as she walked around the corner outside the house where a young man had been found with his heart and eyes removed. Jake was on the other side of the building, also looking for any clues the first cops on the scene might have missed. The Witchblade began to hum. She turned and leaned against the building so that she was facing the corner she had just come around.

Sure enough, Nottingham nearly plowed right into her. He heaved a sigh and avoided her gaze.

She softly berated him, "You're slipping."

His shoulders sank. He was so completely despondent that she actually began to feel genuine concern about him.

"You're miserable without her, aren't you?" She didn't wait for him to reply, knowing that he probably wouldn't. "She's just as bad without you. Now, please, whatever is going on between you two, work it out, will you? I never would have chosen you for her, but I'm starting to be OK with it."

"She doesn't ... ," he paused. His broad shoulders remained slumped, and Sara realized that whatever it was that he had been about to say, he couldn't physically say the words. He finished awkwardly, "... want me in her life anymore."

Sara sighed and instinctively reached out a hand to comfort him. It was her Witchblade arm, and the minute she touched him, the bracelet reacted violently, expanding and surrounding both his arm and hers in silver metal. Sara was suddenly yanked away from reality, Nottingham with her. The clarity of the Witchblade showed her that he had often been there in her dreams of former lives, sometimes older, most of the time younger, always a silent, brooding guardian.

_They were in her apartment, but it was different. There were men's clothes on the rack with hers. A brand new baby bassinet, still wrapped in plastic with a huge pink bow on top, was sitting on the couch. The door to the apartment opened and Sara watched in amazement as _she_ came in. She darted a glance sideways at Nottingham. He didn't seem surprised at all, but he did surprise her. His head was up, and he was watching the unfolding scene with obvious interest._

_Vision Sara walked over to the bassinet and shook her head. Leaning over, she pulled a stuffed dragon out of it. A powder pink and lilac dragon._

"_Nottingham!" vision Sara yelled, the dragon still in her hand._

_Vision Nottingham materialized from behind the front door and vision Sara raised her eyebrows at him. He steadfastly stared at the floor._

"_You know, if you're actually paying for these things, and my baby is a boy, you're going to have to return everything you've gotten. Jake definitely isn't the kind of man to think pink is okay for a boy."_

"_She will not be a boy," Nottingham stated, certainty in every word._

_Vision Sara smiled and dropped a hand to her abdomen. Then she frowned and stared at vision Nottingham for a minute. _

"_Nottingham, how do you know that? It's still too early for the sonogram to show the baby's sex. I know, I just came from the doctor's office."_

_Vision Nottingham shifted from one foot to the other._

_Vision Sara got impatient. "Does this have anything to do with your master?"_

"_No," vision Nottingham's answer was immediate. "Mr. Irons is no longer my employer."_

"_What?" both Sara's exclaimed, though of course vision Nottingham only heard vision Sara._

"_Mr. Irons no longer wants me in his employ. I would not protect him against you, and he wishes to control your child in hopes of controlling you."_

"_So help me, Nottingham, if you're lying to me ... "_

"_I have never lied to you, Lady Sara."_

_Vision Sara considered this for a moment. "Then why do you think my baby will be a girl?"_

"_She ... she speaks to me." Vision Nottingham raised his head slightly to glance at vision Sara from beneath his eyebrows._

"_She speaks to you? How?"_

_His eyes drifted to the Witchblade. _

_Vision Sara looked surprised, thoughtfully rubbing the Stone. "Why?"_

"_She is ... important to me. I have been born many times, waiting for you to find the man who would give her to you, but ... "_

"_But?" Vision Sara was too shocked to do more than echo his last word._

"_But I am too old. I should have been born only several years ago. I don't know if she will have me when she is old enough."_

"_Have you? You mean ... " Vision Sara took a deep breath and paled considerably. _

_The Witchblade's Stone pulsed brilliantly and Sara knew it was telling her vision-self that what vision Nottingham had told her was true. "Oh my God."_

_Suddenly they were yanked again, and this time Jake was in the vision, too. They both easily realized this scenario was much later as vision Sara's stomach was now well-rounded._

_Vision Nottingham was in one corner of the living room, sledgehammer in hand, tarps on the floor and drop cloths over the furniture. He appeared ready to knock out part of the wall that separated her apartment from the one next to it. _

_Vision Jake, it appeared, was against this._

"_What the hell does he think he's doing? It's bad enough that he follows you around all the time and has been living next door for two months, he is NOT going to live with us!"_

"_Jake, calm down! He just saved my life and our daughter's today. Again. He saved your life, too. He just wants to be close enough at all times to keep our daughter safe, especially from Irons. You should see what he's done with that place! All for her! Do you even realize that we no longer have to move to have a bigger place when she's born? I don't know what you have against him, but you really need to get past it."_

"_Don't know what I have against him? Sara, the man is a killer!"_

"_Yeah, lucky for us."_

_Vision Jake threw his hands up in the air._

"_Lady Sara, I'd like to speak with Detective McCartey alone for a moment if it's alright with you."_

"_Sure Nottingham, though I don't know how you're gonna get through to him." Vision Sara glared at vision Jake. "You have my permission to beat some sense into him."_

_Sara tensed beside Nottingham, but he knew his other self wasn't about to hurt Jake McCartey. Vision Nottingham set down his sledgehammer and pulled a file folder out of his coat. Vision Jake visibly relaxed. Vision Nottingham handed the folder over, and vision Jake quickly skimmed the contents, the two observers unable to see inside the folder, though Nottingham already knew what was in it. _

_Vision Jake looked up at vision Nottingham, "How long have you had these?"_

"_Since you came here. I have told no one, and I don't plan on doing so. I will protect Lady Sara and her daughter until death, and if you wish, you as well. Children need their parents, and your daughter will need as much ... caring and protection as she can get with Mr. Irons as an enemy."_

_Vision Jake frowned and pondered vision Nottingham's words for a few minutes. Finally he sighed, handing the file folder back to vision Nottingham, "Alright."_

_Nottingham and Sara were yanked again. Sara assumed they were in the apartment next to hers that vision Nottingham had fixed up. _

_The walls were light blue, sponged white clouds near the ceiling and painted grass and flowers near the floor. All the outlets in the room were covered with plastic safety caps, and everything else in the room was baby-friendly. Vision Jake was putting a sheet on the mattress in a white crib, vision Sara was rocking gently in a large wooden rocker with a light blue cushion, and vision Nottingham was sitting Indian style in a corner, knitting a buttercup yellow baby blanket._

_Sara's mouth dropped open and she turned to Nottingham, "Can you knit?"_

_He inclined his head, "I've never had a reason to, though."_

"_Is there anything you can't do?"_

"_Speak in front of crowds."_

_Sara laughed. So he was human after all._

_Vision Sara suddenly gasped and wrapped her arms around her extremely pregnant belly. Vision Nottingham was at her side in an instant. _

_He told vision Jake, who was next to them a second later, "I think it's time."_

_Just then, a bunch of armed, masked men broke into the room. They seemed to just keep coming and Sara counted at least twenty of them. Vision Nottingham was immediately shot and Sara involuntarily called out. The men quickly subdued vision Sara and Jake, carrying them both out of the building. _

_Suddenly Sara and Nottingham were in Irons' office. Vision Irons was waving a gun at vision Jake, trying to coerce vision Sara into giving up the child and joining him as his right hand. She refused, and vision Irons pulled the trigger._

_There was a blur of motion, and an injured vision Nottingham fell to the side as vision Jake fell back, dead. The bullet had gone through vision Nottingham's arm and into vision Jake's chest. He had been too late. Vision Irons shook his head at his former protégé. _

"_Do you really think I would have let you be with Sara's daughter? I introduced your parents long before they should have met so you would be born too early. No matter how much you somehow managed to change, the girl never would have wanted to be with an old, damaged man."_

_Vision Nottingham raised his head to look at vision Sara. Tears were streaming down his face, and vision Sara began to cry softly as well. _

_Vision Irons looked from one to the other and said, "Well, perhaps I had better be on the safe side, if the child dies before it is born and Sara dies with it, I can get you back under my control and we can wait another thirty years for the next Wielder."_

_He turned his gun on vision Sara._

_Vision Nottingham didn't make a sound as he darted in front of vision Sara to take the bullet meant for her in the heart. _

_He was dead before he hit the floor._

"_No!" Vision Sara screamed. _

_She struggled to get at vision Irons, but the guards holding her down were more than enough against a woman in the middle of labor. A woman in a nurse's uniform entered the room._

"_Deliver the baby, then sedate the mother," vision Irons ordered, sounding bored. To a man in the background dressed all in khaki green, he said, "Get the helicopter warmed up, we're taking the baby to Blue Cove."_

"_What about the mother?"_

"_Leave her."_

They were back in the alley and the Witchblade was back in bracelet form.

Sara studied the assassin for a moment and said softly, "I would have let you be with her when she was old enough, no matter what the age difference was. I knew you loved her. Now you have another chance to be together. Take it. The Witchblade has been telling me for days that the only reason she isn't with you right now is because she doesn't want to hurt you. But being apart is hurting both of you, and I want her to be happy for whatever time she has left. She won't be unless you go to her. You were wrong. She does want you in her life, and she does love you. And, Nottingham, thank you. For everything you've ever done for me, for everything you would have done."

For the first time, Nottingham raised his head and looked her straight in the eye. He really was quite magnificent.

"No, Lady Sara, thank you."

Then he was gone. Sara took a deep breath and got back to work.


	14. Chapter 14

New York City Public Library  
New York, NY  
Sunday, July 29, 2001  
8:11 pm

"Lilianna."

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name coming from the assassin's lips. She stared at him for a moment, drinking in his masculine beauty. It had been four days since they had parted ways, three nights since he had comforted her after her nightmare, but to her it felt like it had been a thousand lifetimes. She missed him so terribly. Each moment without him had killed her a little more inside. Seeing him again, close enough to touch, was a combination of a soul-healing balm and the most unbearable torture.

Pain flashing in her eyes, Lilianna looked away to gain some control before returning her gaze to him. How she would love to touch that spot on the right side just under his full lower lip where no hair grew. How she would love to be in his arms again, to have his lips once more on hers. As if he sensed her reckless thoughts, he smiled knowingly. She decided to ignore him and turned back to the book she had been reading.

Ignoring him didn't work. She didn't know why she had thought it would. She could feel him standing across the table from her, waiting impatiently, and the words on the page she was staring at no longer made any sense. He was impossible to ignore when he wanted to be.

Finally admitting defeat, she closed the demonology book and looked into his eyes, "Why are you here?"

Nottingham sat down across from her, and Lilianna blinked to hide her shock. It was the first time she had seen him sit down in a place where there were other people around. Sitting required being vulnerable to those around you. He reached across the table to take one of her hands between his. His thumb gently stroked her palm and she snatched her hand away. She wouldn't torture herself, and him, by letting things go back to the way they had been. It would destroy her completely if she had to leave him again. She slid her chair back and started to stand.

"Lilianna, come home."

She froze for just an instant, wanting so desperately to give in to his demand. But she couldn't. He needed to get on with his life, and she had to use what was left of her time here to help her mother and Jarod. And if she did find a way to destroy Irons, she could free Nottingham in the process. For just a moment, she allowed herself to question her feelings.

She knew she would not want to go back to the future where there was no chance of being with him, even if it did mean she would live and grow old. Did he feel something similar? Even if she was to free him from Irons, would he care without her in his life? She knew he cared about her, but she wasn't sure how much, and she wouldn't further complicate his life with "what ifs".

She started to walk away when he pleaded with desperation in his voice, "Please, Lily."

The words, as well as the pain in his voice, hit her like a physical blow. It took all the will power she possessed to keep moving as if she hadn't heard him. She made it halfway to the door before her will lost out to her heart. If she was being selfish, so be it; she loved him. Each second with him was more precious than a dozen whole lifetimes without him could ever be. She turned, and her heart broke once again at the sight of him slumped in his chair like a thrown-away rag doll. Before more than a few moments had passed, he felt her stare and looked up.

She took two steps toward him and suddenly he was right in front of her, once more full of life, hope blazing in his beautiful green eyed gaze. She needed to tell him that she was still going to be working with her mother, and that they could use his help. Needed to make him understand that no matter how much they both wanted it, there was no way for her to stay with him. And she was very much afraid that because Sara knew what was going to happen, the future would be changed and when she went back, she would have no memory of their time together. But right now she just wanted to concentrate on the fact that she got to be with him again.

Burying her sadness deep inside, she whispered to him, "Take me home."

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As soon as they were in the elevator going up to his loft, Nottingham took her into his arms and kissed her. He devoured her as if the world would end if he didn't possess her mouth, and she matched him kiss for kiss. When the elevator stopped, he lifted her by the waist slightly so they could move into the loft without breaking from each other's mouths.

"I hope that's your way of saying goodbye. Your week is up today."

Irons rose from the couch and walked toward them. Luckily, Lilianna's arms were wrapped around Nottingham's back where Irons couldn't see her hands, or the rings. She quickly hid them and Nottingham moved to stand in front of her.

He growled low, "No, it's not. It's my way of saying welcome back. You scared her off and I'm not letting her go again. You already said your previous order might have been hasty."

Irons glared at him and Nottingham lowered his head. Irons put out a hand to pull Lilianna forward. Nottingham's arm shot out to block the way. Before Irons could react, Lilianna lay a calming hand on Nottingham's arm and moved to stand in front of the white-haired man. He studied her for a few minutes, even going so far as to walk around her. It reminded her so much of his inspections at the Centre that she had to bite the inside of her lower lip until it bled to stop herself from reacting.

"Are you afraid of me?" Irons queried.

Lilianna swallowed hard and let out a shuddering breath, "Yes."

Irons nodded approvingly and pulled out his pocket watch. Staring at it, he asked, "Would you ever betray Nottingham? To the police? To any family or friends you might have? To anyone?"

"Never," she stated strongly, immediately.

Nottingham hid his surprise; somehow he knew she was being completely truthful. She would choose him over Sara if it came down to it. He was not worthy of that kind of devotion. But so help him, he would never let her go now that he had her back.

Irons sighed and put his watch away. "Very well, as long as she continues to stay out of the way and you continue to do your job, you can keep her. But keep in mind that I may change my mind at any time. I'm going for a run tomorrow morning at seven. Don't be late. And make sure she wears something appropriate to dinner on the twelfth."

Nottingham dipped his head further and Irons left. Immediately, Nottingham straightened and smiled at Lilianna.

"Hear that? I get to keep you."

He bent his head and was met more than halfway in another passionate kiss.

When they both drew away for some much-needed air, she smiled at him, "Whatever will you do with me?"

His gaze darkened with desire, and he didn't say a word. Her smile fading, she just stared back, enthralled by what she saw in his eyes. Suddenly he realized that as much as he wanted to give her pleasure, to give her himself, he didn't know how. What if he hurt her? He set her away from him carefully and turned slightly away.

"Why don't you tell me what progress you and Sara have made with your plans."

Lilianna sighed, a combination of frustration and weariness.

"Not much, there is a surprising amount of information on demons when you look for it, unfortunately none of what we've found has been about Glory. And we don't even know where to begin to look for her."

"Where did she come from when she attacked?"

Lilianna grunted, "I don't know the name of the town, but it was located on a Hellmouth. Unfortunately, there are at least twenty in the United States alone, and we find more every time we research it."

"And the search for Jarod?"

"We haven't even started. The destruction of all creation is a little bit more of a priority right now. In many ways, he'll be even harder to find than Glory."

"I might be able to help with that."

Lilianna looked at him, "How?"

"Irons is getting frustrated with the Centre's inability to get Jarod back. The next time Irons speaks with Raines or Parker, I can offer to track him down. I would probably be sent to the Centre to learn everything they know about him, and I may have better luck than their people."

"But Irons would order you to take Jarod to the Centre, if he even agreed."

"I already thought of that. I can take Jarod to the Centre's property, and then bring him here. As long as Irons doesn't tell me to hand Jarod over to any one person specifically, it will work. And even if he does, together you and I could break Jarod back out of the Centre."

Lilianna smiled at him, "It might just work. When did you think of all this?"

"I had to do something to stop myself from going mad without you."

"So, you did miss me? You seemed so calm when you approached me in the library."

"Oh, Lily, I was so happy just to see you again that I could barely think. When you walked away from me, I was never going to move from that spot again, I just didn't care anymore. Nothing could matter to me the way you do."

Lilianna took the few steps necessary to reach him and threw her arms around his neck. Their mouths met again, their kiss gentle and tender. When Nottingham pulled back, he pulled her hands down between them.

Their fingers intertwined and he looked into her eyes, "Lily, I lo-, I..."

Nottingham made a frustrated sound.

"Shh," she soothed, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I know, I don't think I can say the word either, but I do, too. So much."

They kissed again, a celebration of their feelings for each other. Lilianna paid no mind when the Witchblade slipped from her fingers, but Nottingham made a soft sound of surprise and pain when the flesh of his left inner wrist was burnt. They pulled apart again, and when they unclasped their hands, he had two rings in his palm, and Lilianna had one in hers. The two-overlapping-circles symbol of the Witchblade was emblazoned on Nottingham's arm, and a woman's engagement ring with the Stone of the Witchblade was in his palm, along with a matching Stone-less wedding band in the form of a dragon that encircled the Stone when the two rings were put together. In Lilianna's hand was a single ring, a man's version of the set, the dragon slightly bigger and facing the opposite direction.

She smiled softly at him, "I guess the Witchblade approves." Gently she grasped his left hand and slid the ring onto his wedding ring finger, "I am yours, as you are mine."

"Forever," he added to the vows as he put the woman's rings on her finger.

The Stones flashed happily and they each suddenly knew most of the other's life as well as they knew their own. They were both quiet for a minute, and Nottingham traced the twin circles on his inner wrist.

"Where's your mark?"

Lilianna stepped back and held her arms out to the sides slightly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "Why don't you try to find it?"

The fire that lit his eyes in response to her question thrilled her from head to toe, and Nottingham pulled her close and took her lips in a deep, bruising kiss. No longer afraid, he followed his instincts. His hands worked in between them to unbutton the shirt she was wearing, and he moved his mouth down to kiss each inch of exposed skin as he uncovered it. When he undid the last button and kneeled to kiss his way down her belly, she shrugged out of the shirt. His tongue found her belly button and she gasped, burying her fingers in his hair to clutch his head against her.

Nottingham continued to tease her navel as he worked on her button fly jeans. When they were unsnapped, he yanked them down, taking her underwear with the denim. He drew in a breath and reached up to stroke the front of her left hip with his thumb, tracing the twin circles that matched his. Lilianna shivered from the sensation and pulled him back up for a soul-consuming kiss. When she stepped out of her shoes and clothes quickly, he scooped her up into his arms, holding her close against his chest. He carried his treasure, the most precious cargo he could ever be granted, to their bed.

He was undressed an instant after he laid her down, moving faster than he ever had before. But as he lay beside her, he slowed. Stopped to study the person who meant more to him than life itself, more than his freedom, more than salvation. He had told her the truth. If she had left him in that library, he would have completely given up. Life had no meaning without her. She was his soul mate, his other half, the part of him that had been missing for so long.

He didn't want to think of what would happen to him, to his heart, if they didn't find a way for her to continue to exist as she was now and be with him. But right now, in this moment, all that mattered was that she was still with him, and they could be together in a way he had never before wanted to be with anyone else, the way he needed to be with her. He pulled her close and tried to divest her of her bra, the last piece of clothing on her.

When he fumbled with the closure and growled softly, unsure how to undo the contraption but not wanting to hurt her by just yanking it off, Lilianna reached behind her own back and undid the clasp. She left the material in place, letting him finish undressing her, the way she knew he wanted it. Nottingham gently peeled one strap away at a time, then with a flourish, tossed her bra across the room, where it landed unheeded on the floor. He took a moment to worship her body with his eyes, but only a moment. The next instant, he was pressing her into the mattress with his delicious weight, her arms around him, his mouth on hers.

They were both lost in a world made up entirely of sensation, entirely of each other, and the Stone of each of their Blades glowed and pulsed in time to their heartbeats. Their bodies joined as their souls already had, and they both felt the pleasure the other was experiencing even as they felt their own. They moved together purely through instinct and love, and their joining was more beautiful and true than any that the Blade had previously witnessed. They fell asleep after, wrapped in each other's arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Sometime later, it felt like only a few minutes to Lilianna, she woke suddenly. Something was wrong. She realized with a strange sense of detachment that her body was no longer pressed to that of her husband. She turned her head slowly to face him. It was more difficult than it should have been. When she finally looked at Nottingham she knew why. _The Periculum._ Green and silver vines bound him to the bed, and she had no doubt that she was trapped in much the same way.

Instantly, she was afraid. Irons had told her the rules of the Blade when she had first gotten the Witchblade, and she had never forgotten them until she had been caught up in the man she loved. She wasn't the reincarnation of her mother, and therefore not the True Wielder. And Nottingham was a man. No man could ever be the True Wielder. Had she condemned him to death with her love?

She relaxed after a minute. The Witchblade had chosen him _because_ of her love for him. It had been born with her. It wasn't really Sara's Witchblade, the one Irons had been obsessed with for most of his long life. If neither one of them was meant to wield the Blade, they wouldn't be where they were. She closed her eyes, curious to see what the Blade had to teach them and if they would learn whatever it was together.

The next instant she was standing in a field, in full armor except for one small change, she now wore a chain mail skirt over a leather one, both falling halfway down her thighs. Nottingham stood beside her, and when he saw her he smiled. She smiled back, relieved that they were together.

Nottingham was wearing his own version of Witchblade armor. He wore a breastplate that followed with excruciating detail the lines of his warrior's body, chain mail sleeves and leggings over black leather, and metal shin guards and gauntlets decorated with beautiful etchings. In his left hand was a helmet shaped like a dragon's head, and in his right, a claymore that resembled her own, only larger. A blonde woman appeared in front of them, similar armor to Lilianna's covering some of her body. She smiled and stabbed her sword into the ground.

Suddenly they were in the past. The very distant past. A tribe of warriors filled the valley, some practicing, some talking together, all participating in the rituals of daily life. It took only a second for the realization to sink in that most of them, both male and female, wore Witchblades. When it did, both Lilianna and Nottingham gasped. The valley was instantly empty again, and somehow they both missed the people they had never known.

"There was not always only one." The woman finally spoke. "In fact, there has never been a time when there _was_ only one, but the others are hidden away where evil cannot reach them."

"But why?" Lilianna asked.

"Long ago, one of the Wielders' hearts was turned away from good when she was betrayed by her lover with another Wielder. Because she was powerful and somewhat justified, she gathered part of the tribe to her side and convinced them to fight against the others. Witchblade had been lifted against Witchblade before, but never on so grand a scale. The battle destroyed much of the land around it, and many innocents were lost along with the warriors who died. The Creator decided from then on that the tribe would be scattered, and only one, who had not fought in the battle, would be allowed to wield the Blade. She was one of your mother's former selves, and so only her line has since worn the Blade successfully. But the Creator knew that one day the tribe would be needed again and He allowed a prophecy to form. One day a woman would be born of love, holding the Blade inside her. She would find her true mate and he too would wear the Blade. And when that happened, the tribe would be rebuilt out of the worthy warriors of the universe. The two of you were Meant To Be. Each of you was a member of the tribe before that time, and you died in each other's arms, never having told the other of your love. Nottingham has since lived several times, waiting for you to be born. But your mother was never wise in love until now. And it only worked out this time because your half-sister came back from her future and changed things to how they are."

"Half-sister?" Lilianna gasped. "Where is she? Does my mother know?"

"No," the woman cautioned, "and unless your sister chooses it, she must not know. Things went horribly wrong before. Your sister may not even want to meet you."

"Why?"

The woman looked uncomfortable for a minute, "She, too, is an assassin, but the first kill she ever made was out of self-defense when she was only five. She watched her father die, and then was attacked with the Blade before it abandoned its wielder and became hers."

"Sara tried to kill her own daughter?" It was Nottingham who had spoken this time.

The woman nodded, "As I said, things went horribly wrong. Sara was driven mad when she learned who had fathered her child. Your sister calls herself Doe, an acronym for Daughter of Evil."

"Irons?" Lilianna breathed it with hate, and the woman nodded sadly.

"Who raised her after Irons and Sara were both dead?" Nottingham asked.

"You."

"Oh my god," Lilianna swore softly.

The woman continued, "You cared for her, and tried to stop her from going back in time, but she knew it was her destiny. It hurt her to see how evil her father was, for he did love her in his own way, and she had loved him with all her young heart. It also hurt her to know that although Sara is a good person and she loves you, she had never loved Doe. Doe thought that when she set things right, she might cease to exist if she took off the Blade, and she became frightened, scared that she would go to hell for having killed her own mother. And so she remains in this time, trying her best to keep things the way they should be."

"What's her real name?" Lilianna asked, aching for the sister she had never met, might never meet.

"Susanna Irons. Kenneth named her after his mother. Sara had originally named her Erin when she fooled herself into believing Susanna was Conchobar's."

"We have to find her," Lilianna said to Nottingham. He nodded his agreement.

"It is your choice, of course, but if you do be warned that she may hate you for having the love she was never given. We will speak again, but there is no time now."

The woman turned away, but Nottingham asked her one more question, "Rebuilding the tribe, where will we find the other Blades?"

"You will find them when it is time."

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Suddenly the woman was gone, along with Nottingham. Lilianna was left alone in an empty blackness. Elizabeth Bronte appeared beside her and smiled sadly at her great-granddaughter.

"There is something you must see, something you must set right. Your mother had yet another life that was changed, this one by her own hand. She does not remember what went wrong, and so it is up to you, my dear, to fix what is left that Susanna did not know about."

"There's more?" Lilianna asked, somehow not surprised.

Suddenly visions swept in front of her at an alarming speed, but she was able to absorb them all: Danny being killed and becoming Sara's Witchblade guardian, her fight with Gallo and the revelations she learned from him, the fact that she didn't kill the monster, but Nottingham did. Her forced pairing with "rookie" Jake McCartey, her major cases, each connected to the Witchblade and each leading her deeper into its world. Her meeting Gabriel, and Conchobar, Conchobar's death despite Nottingham's help. The Periculum, her discovery of the White Bulls and Dante's recruiting of Jake. When Lilianna viewed Nottingham's confession to her mother that he loved her "in unguarded moments", she fell to her knees in gut wrenching pain, but forced herself to keep watching. She watched as Irons manipulated everything and caused the deaths of everyone important to her mother. Felt ripped apart inside when Nottingham got himself killed because of the division of his loyalties between Sara and Irons. Watched as Irons activated Nottingham's clone, a "better" copy of the original, devoid of emotion. Saw the clone's evil, an evil that outweighed that of his master. Understood her mother's decision to change time after everyone important to her had died, and her immediate altering of the time line by not going into the Rialto and getting Danny killed.

From there things went similarly to the way they had before, Jake getting knocked out by Nottingham because it wasn't his time to die, Danny quitting the force when his wife threatened to leave him and take their daughter if he didn't, Danny not knowing that Susanna had visited Mrs. Woo and shown her what had happened to her husband in another timeline, using her jealousy of her husband's close relationship with Sara to make her believe in something she otherwise wouldn't have. Sara being partnered with Jake and having to work with him and hide the Witchblade from him at the same time. Sara meeting Gabriel during the "twin" case, and their subsequent friendship. Nottingham hovering in the background, often helping Sara against orders. But this time Susanna appeared in the background in several instances, using the power of the Witchblade to cleanse Nottingham's mind of Irons' brainwashing. Lilianna felt healed when she realized that Nottingham's "love" for her mother in the previous timeline was only Irons' manipulation of Nottingham's protective nature, a way of getting Nottingham to try and bring Sara into the fold that had originally backfired terribly. Sara actually realizing Jake's love for her this time and that she felt much the same way, but their union being put off by the arrival of Conchobar, who Susanna made sure still died. After all, it was Conchobar's destiny to either betray Sara or die. But this time, Sara did not discover the White Bulls, nor did her friends die. Irons, calmed by dreams Susanna sent him each night, put off much of his planning. And so Sara's life had been a little easier than it was the first time around. And then Lilianna had come back in time and Susanna, sensing it before it had even happened, had left the city only to come back a day later, also before Lilianna's arrival. Maybe her sister did want to meet her.

That meant that Irons still had the clones of Nottingham, that the White Bulls might still go after Sara, that Gabriel Bowman and others, including Joe Siri, the man who was more of a father to Sara than any other left alive, might still die. Lilianna had a lot resting on her shoulders.

"You understand what you must do, and that Nottingham cannot know about it until after, so that Irons has no way of knowing?"

"Yes, great-grandmother."

Elizabeth smiled sadly again, "Lilianna, may I ask you a favor?"

"Of course."

"Get my body out of his home, and lay me to rest in holy ground."

"I'll do my best."

"That is more than I could ever ask, my dear."


	16. Chapter 16

Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Monday, July 30, 2001  
6:20 am

Lilianna woke to find Nottingham staring down at her. She smiled and dragged his head down to kiss him soundly.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed and told him, "You better leave soon; we don't want to upset Irons unnecessarily."

"I still can't believe that he actually prized someone above himself. Sometimes he acts as if he cares about me but I know that he would rid himself of me without a second thought simply on a whim."

Lilianna looked troubled.

"How are we going to free you from him without killing him? I wanted to just go ahead and do that before, but now ... "

"You don't want Susanna to be hurt anymore than she has been," Nottingham finished for her. Lilianna nodded and Nottingham sat up. "We'll figure something out."

Lilianna watched as he got dressed.

She was amazed when she managed to sound casual as she asked, "How long does Irons usually go running?"

"About two hours, and then he goes to breakfast at Pierre's after for another hour, why?"

She climbed out of the bed and wrapped her arms around him.

"I want to know how long it will be before we're together again."

He smiled, and her heart skipped a beat at the love and beauty shining down at her from his eyes. Their lips met and she welcomed the now familiar flood of sensations that came from touching him. He pulled away with great reluctance.

"I have to go. We don't want to give him any excuse."

Lilianna watched him leave and then moved into action. She dressed quickly, throwing on sweats of Nottingham's and the running shoes she had been wearing. Her clothes from yesterday were special to her now that Nottingham had taken them off her, and the rest of her things were still at Sara's old apartment. The sweats were too big for her, and she had to roll up the waist on the bottoms, but she didn't plan on wearing them long. Just long enough to get to Irons' home. Inside, she would need nothing but the Witchblade.

She walked three blocks away from Nottingham's building before hailing a cab. She gave the cabby the address of a small park, located two miles from Irons' home. In the Centre, she and Jarod had often been given maps of Irons' home and the surrounding area to come up with improved security measures. When the cabby dropped her off, she jogged in the park for ten minutes before finding a spot to strip off the sweat suit, folding it neatly and leaving it on the high branch of a tree. She left the small place in full armor and headed for Irons' mansion.

When she was still a block away from the mansion's gate, a figure detached from a nearby brick wall and moved toward her. The young woman had white-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was wearing nondescript, regular clothes, a T-shirt and jeans. She looked very young, around sixteen or seventeen, but her brown eyes held a lifetime of pain. Her features, similar to Lilianna's own, were set in an indifferent mask. Around her right wrist was a solid silver band four inches wide with the Stone of the Witchblade in the center.

"Susanna," Lilianna greeted when her half-sister drew close.

The younger girl lifted one eyebrow and dipped her head slightly, "I see you've been through the Periculum, Lilianna."

"They told us that you had gone away, I didn't expect to meet you so soon." Lilianna left the vision she had seen of Susanna coming back out of it.

"Us?" Susanna's nostrils flared slightly. She blinked and drew in a breath, "Do you love him?"

Lilianna understood immediately that Susanna must have somehow smelled Nottingham on her, "Desperately. He is my life."

Susanna's brown eyes filled with unshed tears. She nodded. Taking a deep breath, she schooled her features back into what Lilianna realized must be her normal blasé mask. Lilianna recognized the look as one that Irons employed much of the time. Like father like daughter. But only in mannerisms. Susanna was good, through and through. Lilianna knew this on an instinctual level. Irons, on the other hand, was completely evil. Whatever had made him love his daughter in the other timeline had not been present in Lilianna's, and therefore probably did not exist in this one.

Besides, he did not know about Susanna. It was probably a good thing, too. God only knew what he would do with the knowledge that there were now four Wielders, and that one of them was his daughter.

"He's not here right now."

Lilianna had no doubt who Susanna was talking about. She could also hear the tension in her younger sibling's voice. At least, she assumed Susanna was younger. However, she had to have been born earlier than Lilianna if Sara had thought Conchobar was Susanna's father.

"I'm not here for him. And I don't think that I will kill him. I know you ... care about him."

Susanna stared at her, her mask slipping, "Why would that matter to you?"

Lilianna smiled, "You _are_ my sister."

Susanna frowned and pondered this for a minute.

She began in a small voice, "I was prepared to hate you. Our mother wanted you, I know that much about your life. She never really loved me, even when she pretended I belonged to Chocolate Bar. She knew the truth all along, and it drove her mad. _My existence_ drove her mad."

"It wasn't your fault."

"And whose fault was it, my father's? He didn't know she would go nuts. He thought having a child would ground her, maybe even attach her to him in a way. He certainly wouldn't have had me created if he knew they would both die because of it." Susanna paused and frowned again, and when she corrected herself, Lilianna realized she must have remembered how Irons had sacrificed himself for her. "Well, maybe that's not true, but what's the point in worrying about it now? I've already made sure it won't happen."

"I know your life must have been hard ... "

"That's just it. It wasn't. Not really. I had more money than I knew what to do with, and I had a guardian who cared about me. I just ... didn't have parents. But I knew through the Witchblade that things were not supposed to be that way. I knew, for most of my life, that my existence was a mistake."

"Susanna ... "

"No, let me finish. I _was_ prepared to hate you. Because she wanted you, because you had parents who loved you even if you were taken from them, and because you _are_ supposed to exist. But I don't hate you. I could never hate anyone who loves Ian. I almost wish you had been there, too, that you had raised me with him. He was never fully able to open up his emotions. But he must have here for both of you to be Wielders."

"You know about the Prophecy?"

"Mm-hm, it was in one of Dad's books. I always knew the man it talked about was Ian, but he wouldn't believe me. He's rather cynical."

"He's getting better about that," Lilianna smiled softly.

Susanna allowed a small smile in return, "I bet he's getting better at a lot of things."

Lilianna's eyebrows shot up, and she laughed. "I think I'm going to like you a lot."

Her sister flushed slightly and turned her head away.

They both stared at the mansion for a minute before Susanna turned around, "Why _are_ you here then?"

"I don't suppose you've destroyed the clones of my husband?"

"My god, I had forgotten about them. The mansion lost power during the EM blast of 2009, and the pods holding the clones shut down. They drowned in the fluid that had sustained them. Ian and I didn't discover them until a week later."

Susanna stopped, but Lilianna could practically hear the wheels turning in the light blonde head, so she kept quiet and waited.

"You'll have to disconnect the pods from their power source and destroy the lab. If any of the genetic material survives, Dr. Imo will just create more, but he can't start from scratch, he was just lucky the first time. There should be some kind of self-destruct for the lab, Dad leaves nothing to chance, and the ownership of human clones would get him in more hot water than even he could buy his way out of. I'll let the Witchblade show you how to get there, but you'll need me to shut down surveillance before you go in. I assume he knows at least what you look like if you're with Ian, and he would kill both of you if he knew you were doing this. He won't be able to find out who I am since technically I don't exist. Give me ten minutes, and then you can go in. And make sure you don't leave any DNA behind. Because the Witchblade is part of you now on the genetic level, Dad may blame S-Sara."

They both ignored how she had stumbled over their mother's name. Susanna pulled something out of her back pocket and held it out. It was a metal chopstick.

"Would you mind using this to put my hair up and expose the mark on the back of my neck?"

Lilianna did as her sister had asked, using the metal chopstick to secure Susanna's ponytail into a bun above her neck, allowing the barcode there to be easily visible.

"What is _that_?" Lilianna asked.

"It's a long story; I'll tell you sometime. For now, it's just a little something to throw Dad off the trail for awhile. He'll try to blame some people I know, but I can keep them safe." Susanna turned away, "Ten minutes."

"Wait," the younger sister turned back to stare as the elder asked, "where will I find you?"

Susanna frowned, "I'll have to disappear for awhile after this, but I'll be back." She momentarily grinned, "I want to get to know _your _Ian."

With that, she was gone. Scanning the area around her, Lilianna found a place to hide while she waited for the allotted time to pass.

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Susanna easily leapt over the ten-foot wall around her father's property and landed lightly on her feet on the other side. She darted across the expanse of lawn, feeling the exhilaration that only flat out speed could give her. When she slowed near the house, one of the estate's two Wolfhounds saw her and started toward her; she growled at it. It cowered and began whining, trying to show submission. Susanna ignored it and kept an eye out for the guards as she made her way to the north facing side of the building. In the middle of the third story was a stone balcony. She leapt up and slightly forward to land on the railing of the balcony.

"Hey!"

She turned around to look down at the guard who had yelled at her from the ground. In an instant, she had leapt off the railing and onto the man, knocking him out cold. For a moment she considered killing him in case he woke up before Lilianna left, but she hadn't investigated anyone before setting out on this little exercise, so killing would only be a final resort. He might be an innocent, just doing his job.

When she had leapt back up to the balcony, she walked cautiously into the room it lead to, punching a hole in the wood door to turn the knob from the inside. By the time she had lived in the house, this room had been unused, a guest bedroom that had never housed a guest. Now the room held three packing crates, and resting her right hand on each quickly, she knew they were empty. Two of them had held furniture, while the third had held a picture of Nefertiri wearing the Witchblade, who her father and all his experts would mistake for Cleopatra. But Cleopatra had never worn the Witchblade. None of her kind ever had. They weren't allowed to.

Susanna made her way down to the first floor, knocking out three more guards on the way. She made no effort to hide herself from the cameras in the mansion, each of whose position she knew by heart. She paused in the lower part of the library, drawn to the secret room where Elizabeth Bronte was kept cryogenically frozen. But her job wasn't to set things right this time, only allow Lilianna to be able to do so without endangering her life and Ian's. She allowed her heart to lift at the thought of being able to get to know both of them in this timeline, to have something of a family again. She knew from meeting Lilianna that her sister already cared about her, especially when Lilianna had revealed that she wouldn't kill Irons because of Susanna's feelings. There was no other way to free Ian that Susanna knew about, and she decided to look into it. As soon as she shut down the surveillance system and got out.


	17. Chapter 17

Lilianna was in the mansion exactly twelve minutes after Susanna had left her. She had been cautious crossing the expansive yard, realizing after that Susanna had already cleared the way for her. Through the Witchblade, Lilianna knew the moment she set foot in the mansion that Susanna was already gone. Lilianna allowed the Witchblade to lead her through part of the house to the basement, where an airtight vault-like door stood between her and the lab. There was a retinal scanner next to the door, and after a moment's hesitation she raised her left hand to the device and let it scan the Stone of the Blade. A soft hissing sound announced the opening of the door and she slipped through quickly, allowing it to shut itself behind her.

There were six of the containers that Susanna had called pods in the room. Five of them held clones in various stages of development, and for a second Lilianna's stomach rolled and she thought she might be sick. The first contained an embryo, the second and third young boys, the fourth a teenager, and the last a man nearly as old as Nottingham. A cold sensation crept over her skin and she searched the edges of the machines for a way to turn them off. After a few minutes, she found a hidden compartment with a throw switch inside.

Flipping it, Lilianna waited as the machines' steady hum decreased and then stopped. Watched as the younger versions of her husband sank in the liquid that had sustained them. Forced herself to keep watching when the teenage and adult versions started to thrash violently, trying to find life sustaining oxygen where there was none. It was only a few minutes before everything was silent, but it had seemed hours to Lilianna. The sooner she left the better.

Turning away, she began to search for the kill switch, finding a panel in the wall near the door and opening it. There was a control panel inside with a timer, next to a large red button. She set the timer for ten minutes, hoping it would be enough time to find Elizabeth's body and get out of the mansion. She was sure the destruction would be limited to just this room, but she wanted to be far away when it happened. Who knew what kind of alarms it would set off. She moved her hand over the button, getting ready to run for it. She wanted to put this place far behind her.

"I wouldn't."

Anyone who didn't know him the way she did would easily mistake the voice for Nottingham's, but she could hear the coldness of it. She turned around and stared at him. The clone had only a small triangle of hair under his lip where her husband was fully bearded, but their physical resemblance was none-the-less uncannily identical. His eyes were what really gave him away. They were dead. Not even a hint of the vitality present in Nottingham could be seen in this inferior copy. Because no matter how much Irons' scientist had tweaked his aggression and enhanced his physical and mental abilities, the clone was inferior. It had no emotions, no soul.

She glanced quickly at the pods to make sure the others were indeed dead and realized quickly that this clone must have once occupied the sixth pod, the empty one. The clone followed her gaze and smiled evilly.

"That is where I came from. And do you know why?"

Lilianna's gaze swung immediately back to him.

"It's because of you. You made my predecessor weak. Gave him _feelings_," the clone practically spat the word. "I will enjoy killing him." Rage filled her and she knew that no matter what it took, he was not leaving this room. His dead eyes rested on the Witchblade gauntlet. "This will certainly be an interesting development to my master."

"You'll never tell him," she told him calmly.

The clone smirked again, "Oh, good. A backbone. This should be fun."

He sprang immediately into action, leaping across the table that separated them to attack her with his suddenly drawn katana. But she was no longer there, executing a side handspring at the same moment that he leapt, ending up behind and to the right of him. He swung immediately toward her, bringing his blade down with a deafening clash against her claymore, raised and ready for him. They circled, and she tested his abilities, not surprised that he was at least as good as she was and didn't tire. But she had the desire to survive on her side, and her love for her husband and parents, and now her need to know her sister.

She grabbed a heavy instrument from her position on the other side of the lab table from him and threw it at his head. He deflected it easily with his katana, hollow laughter filling the room. Then suddenly he grunted, looking down at the Blade embedded in his chest and then up at her as he sank to his knees. She had moved like lightning around the table, an ability she had learned at the Centre that always left her completely exhausted. She pulled the Blade from his body and watched him slump to the floor. She didn't know where she would get the energy now to carry Elizabeth's body out, but without that move, she might never have beaten him.

Stepping over his still form, she punched the red button on the self-destruct mechanism. She left the lab, making sure the door sealed shut behind her. The Witchblade led her with urgency up to Irons' library, but she staggered as she went, tired beyond anything she had ever experienced. She went to a throne-like chair near the large fireplace in the room and pressed a button on the underside of the right arm. A false wall slowly slid open to reveal another room where Elizabeth Bronte's corpse sat posed on a couch. A shiver went through Lilianna at the site of her great-grandmother's dead eyes staring vacantly into space. Entering the specially made room, she yanked down the velvet drapes from over a fake window and gently wrapped them around the body.

Calling on reserves she didn't know she had, Lilianna lifted Elizabeth's posed, frozen body over her shoulder, an awkward, heavy weight, and made her way out of the mansion. The further she went, the slower she became. She was halfway across the lawn to the gate when tears filled her eyes. She wasn't going to make it. She had failed her great-grandmother and Nottingham. She would be found here and Irons would exact a terrible revenge. Suddenly, a dark car pushed through the front gate to the estate and Lilianna watched with detached fascination as it stopped right in front of her.

The passenger window rolled down and a wrinkled, curly-haired man in the driver's seat told her, "Put Elizabeth in the back and get in. Quickly."

Not daring to question whatever twist of fate had sent him at that exact moment, Lilianna did as he said and slumped in the passenger seat. The man drove the car off the property as if the devil himself were on their tail. Lilianna let out a small laugh. It wouldn't surprise her.

"You took on too much too quickly, little one," the man's strangely accented voice berated her.

"I don't have a lot of time to wait around for the right time to do things." She turned her head to study him, "Who are you?"

"Lazar."

The one word filled her mind with visions from the Blade. Visions of this man watching the lives of her mother and her mother's former selves. Stealing her mother as an infant from the crib she shared with her fraternal twin, Emily.

Lilianna took a shuddering breath and looked away.

"Thank you."

Lazar remained silent, and twenty minutes later they were in a cemetery. Together they carried Elizabeth's body, Lazar leading the way to a beautiful oak coffin laying next to an empty grave.

Standing at the head of the grave was a statue of a guardian angel, an inscription on the base that read simply, "1911-1950 Woman, Mother, Hero". It was fitting.

Lilianna wondered for a moment how they were going to force the body into the coffin, then Lazar passed his hand over it, and Elizabeth suddenly lay straight. When Lilianna took the drapes off, Elizabeth's eyes were closed, her arms were crossed over her chest, and an air of peace hung over the body. Together they silently lifted her into the coffin and lowered the coffin into the grave. Within minutes they had filled the plot and Lazar lay fresh flowers at the foot of the angel statue, Lilianna kneeling next to them. Lilianna kissed her fingers and pressed them quickly to Elizabeth's short epitaph.

Standing, she said, "Thank you for doing this."

"I should have done it myself a long time ago." Lilianna did not correct him, knowing this being had his own demons to contend with, and Lazar turned away. "Come. I'll drop you at Nottingham's building, can't have anyone see you like that."

Lilianna suddenly remembered the sweats she had left in the park when Lazar spoke again, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

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"Are you okay?" Nottingham questioned softly as he entered the loft late that afternoon.

Lilianna unfolded herself from the corner of the couch to reach out for him. He immediately took her into his arms and held her close as she maintained a death grip around his neck. Bending slightly, he lifted her into his arms and sat down in her vacated spot with her in his lap.

"The Witchblade showed me most of what happened. Irons is furious, all he knows about so far is the break in and the lab self-destruct. He's firing people left and right, very calmly of course, which is even more disturbing to them."

"Did he ask you if you had any idea who did it?"

There was real fear in her voice and he wished he could protect her from it.

"He asked if there were any clues lying around as to who was responsible for destroying the lab. I honestly answered that there weren't, knowing that the fact that Susanna appeared on surveillance did not mean that she destroyed the clones. The strange thing is, Thor and Odin are missing."

"Who?"

"Irons' Wolfhounds."

"He named Irish Wolfhounds after Norse gods? I didn't see any dogs when I went in. Would Susanna have taken them?"

Nottingham shrugged. "Maybe. She might have played with them when she was a little girl."

Lilianna shifted her torso so that she was pressed chest to chest against him. "You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not," he assured her, kissing her eyes shut. "I understand why you had to do it the way you did. The Witchblade couldn't tell me how you managed to find Susanna so fast though."

Lilianna's eyes flew open. "My god, the Witchblade! How on earth did you hide it from Irons?"

Nottingham shook his head, "I really don't know, I understand how he missed the mark, it was under my sleeve, but the ring was in plain sight for ten minutes until I remembered to put on my gloves. There is no doubt in my mind that he didn't see it. He would have immediately had me killed and taken it."

"Promise me you won't leave the loft without your gloves on from now on." When Nottingham nodded, she relaxed visibly. She almost immediately picked up their previous conversation. "I didn't find Susanna, she found me. I didn't think to ask her how she knew to be there, but she has had her Blade a lot longer than any of us, even me. I'm sure that had something to do with it."

Just then the phone rang shrilly. Lilianna scrambled off his lap, and Nottingham strode quickly to the phone. He picked it up and held it to his ear without saying anything. A split second later, he yanked the receiver a few inches away and even Lilianna, halfway across the loft, could hear Irons. She was shocked. In all the years she had been in his possession, she had never once heard him raise his voice. And now he was screaming.

"...get over here right now! You have to find her!"

There was suddenly dead silence from the phone and Nottingham set it down. Irons had hung up. Nottingham looked at her apologetically.

"It's all right." She paled suddenly. "He...he probably just found out about Elizabeth."

Nottingham nodded thoughtfully. "Don't tell me where she is. If worse comes to worst, I don't want things to just slip back into his possession again. But he may go after Sara soon if he starts aging."

"He won't be able to take her," Lilianna said softly. "She has the added strength of knowing she's going to be a mother on her side now."

Nottingham looked at Lilianna, trying to envision children of theirs. The instant but brief, beautiful image of their family that filled his mind made him catch his breath. He turned to go, afraid to show her what might never be. He turned back for an instant at the loft elevator, "I..."

"Me, too," she answered.


	18. Chapter 18

Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Tuesday, July 31, 2001  
2:20 pm

"Where do you think she is?"

Nottingham had just gotten home an hour ago after being out all night looking for Elizabeth's body. Irons was still on the warpath, but he had conceded that Nottingham needed some sleep before he tailed Sara later in the afternoon. But Nottingham wasn't sleeping, he was lying on the bed in his briefs, watching his wife beat up on his boxing dummy.

Lilianna paused in her attack for a minute to answer his question, "I don't know. Maybe she went to go see the people she said she would protect, the ones that Irons would blame for the break in. I don't know if she actually has a home somewhere. I hope she does."

"What do you think she's done to support herself for however long she's been here?"

A frown marred his wife's brow momentarily, and then she smiled at him, "Well, you did raise her. She's probably an assassin like us."

"Sara is really going to hate me for this, isn't she?"

Lilianna crossed the loft and lay down beside him on the bed.

She cupped his face in her hands and looked him directly in the eye, "It doesn't matter what she thinks. She is my mother, and of course she is important to me, but you are my life. She can accept it or not, but that's the way it is. My being an assassin has nothing to do with you. The way I grew up is not your fault. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have grown up at all." His eyes thanked her and she kissed him softly. "Besides, Mom may never know about Susanna. Susanna may choose never to let Sara know who she is, and whatever decision she makes, I'm going to stick to it."

"Me, too," he agreed, quietly adding, "I wish I could have met her."

"You will," she said with absolute certainty. "She told me she wanted to get to know you in this timeline."

"When do you think she'll come back?" he asked after smiling tenderly at her.

Lilianna paled. "I hope it's in the next week or two."

Nottingham launched himself off the bed. He paced for only a minute before the mattress dipped once more with his weight. He pulled her closer so that she was snug against him, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his lips to her temple.

"I don't want to think about what's going to happen. You are my wife, and I will do everything in my power to stay with you for all eternity, but for now I just want to enjoy every moment we have together. Can we do that?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes, and pressed kisses to his neck and chest. When her lips grazed one of his scars and he stiffened, she proceeded to kiss each of his scars tenderly, showing him that there wasn't a single part of him she didn't love. Even if neither one of them was capable of saying the words.

The alarm next to the bed went off, signaling that it was time for Nottingham to go keep an eye on Sara. They both sighed in tandem, and he got up to get dressed.

He was about to walk into the elevator when she asked, "You'll be home tonight, won't you?"

Nottingham hadn't been allowed to go home the night before, and Lilianna had stayed awake the whole time, worrying about him.

"As long as your mother doesn't stir up too much trouble," Nottingham grinned.

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Nottingham watched from the catwalk of the warehouse as thirty feet below Sara and Jake took their positions for a stakeout. The man they were lying in wait for was a murderer and a rapist. He was also a con artist who used the warehouse as his base of operations. The cops had been fruitless in their search for the elusive criminal until they had received an anonymous tip early that afternoon. A tip Nottingham had called in on orders from Irons.

Whether the man was someone who had once worked for Irons and disappointed him, or whether he was someone who knew something about the billionaire that he had threatened to expose, Nottingham neither knew nor cared. He was here only to protect Sara and her future husband. The second protectee had been his own idea. He didn't like Jake McCartey, knew that the blonde man would betray Sara if ordered to do so, but he was still Lilianna's father, whether he ever knew it or not. Nottingham did not want to cause a rift between Lilianna and her family, and that meant trying his hardest to get on the former surfer's good side. If it were possible.

From his perch, Nottingham could see Captain Dante and his lackey, Detective Orlinsky, conversing quietly on the other side of the warehouse. The Stone of the Blade on Nottingham's finger hummed. The White Bull leader was up to something.

Out of sight of the detectives, Nottingham dropped down silently to the floor and stealthily crept to hide a few feet from Dante and Orlinsky.

"...don't trust Fraser anymore," the dark man was saying. "With this plan, we kill two birds with one stone."

Dante waved a gun held in a gloved hand in the direction of the hiding place of two officers Nottingham knew only as a White Bull screw up, presumably Fraser, and his dumb-as-a-post partner. The gun wasn't Dante's. It was Sara's.

"Yeah," Orlinsky snickered in his sandpaper-rough voice, "too bad it ain't completely literal."

"All in good time, my friend. All in good time," was the Captain's reply.

Nottingham slipped back to the area where Sara and Jake were waiting for the suspect to show. They each had a gun trained steadily on a different entrance. The man they were waiting for was known to shoot first and forget to ask questions, already having killed three cops during previous encounters.

Nottingham didn't act on his initial impulse to reveal his presence to Sara; now was as good a time as any to try to show Jake that he wasn't a threat. Nottingham put himself in Jake's line of vision and pressed a gloved finger to his own lips. Jake glared at him, and Nottingham could feel the blonde man's hatred from fifteen feet away. Swallowing his own distrust of the younger man, he held his forefinger and his thumb at right angles from each other, a child's imitation of a gun. He inclined his head slowly in Sara's direction. Jake frowned at him, but glanced Sara's way, never moving his gun's aim from the center of Nottingham's chest.

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Jake fought his hatred with the memory of all his training. It took every ounce of self-discipline he had not to blow their stakeout by shooting the man in black. But it wasn't the thought of what his superiors would do to him that stayed his hand, it was the fear of losing Sara if he did exactly what she had told him not to.

At least now Jake understood how Sara had kept them all alive that night at the club when the gang had shown up. Nottingham had obviously helped her. Jake had checked out the Black Dragon information she had given him, and it was all true, and then some. As for Sara's argument that Nottingham had saved his life by not letting him go into the Rialto theater, Jake wasn't sure he believed that. But Nottingham _had_ helped them at the club and, according to Sara, had saved them all when Jake had been kidnapped by a man obsessed with Angel. Jake couldn't remember much of what had happened that day, and Sara refused to tell him more than a few details.

It didn't make sense to him that the maniac, Marcus, would kidnap _him_. He didn't mean anything to Angel. He didn't even know her, only having seen her twice before that day, and only having spoken to her once, very briefly. And how had Marcus known to pretend to be his aunt Lilianna? She was the only person he would have risked blowing his cover to go and see. How had Marcus known that? It was one question Jake hadn't been able to ask Sara. Not that he thought she would have answered it, even if she somehow knew the answer. Sara had always been a little secretive, but now she was being downright uncommunicative.

Keeping his gun aimed at Nottingham's chest, Jake glanced over at Sara. It took him a moment to notice anything amiss. Then he saw it. The gun in her hands was department issue, but it wasn't hers. Sara's gun had a deep scratch on one side from a near miss with a knife a few months back; there was no scratch on this gun. Lowering his own weapon, he turned back to Nottingham and reluctantly beckoned the other man forward. Jake tapped Sara on the shoulder, and she gasped when she turned and saw Nottingham standing next to him.

"Sara, where's your gun?" Jake asked, his voice low.

Sara whispered back, "The Captain gave it to Vic to clear up the forensics on an old case."

"Dante still has it," Nottingham said, just loud enough to be heard. "He's going to use it to kill Detective Fraser."

"Why would Dante set her up like that?" Jake asked Nottingham.

"He hates me," Sara answered simply.

"How are we going to stop him?" Jake once more directed his question to the man in black.

Nottingham shrugged, "I can't stop him, he knows I work for Mr. Irons."

"Well," Sara said, "we can't stop him, how would we explain how we knew what he was up to?"

Jake looked thoughtful. "Obviously, he's gonna have to wait until the suspect shows to start a fire fight. Our shift is over in two hours and we'll be relieved." Jake looked over at Nottingham. "If you can stop this guy from getting here before then, we can find a way to get Sara's gun back when the next shift comes."

Nottingham nodded and disappeared around a stack of boxes.

"Does he always do that?" Jake asked.

Sara rolled her eyes in affirmation.

"Well," Jake said by way of apology, "now I'm glad I didn't shoot him."

Sara nodded and settled in to wait for two hours to pass. Nottingham had seemed like his old self. Actually he was different from his old self. A better kind of different. He had even been civil to Jake, who he had always shown contempt for before. To her mind, that could only mean one thing, he and Lilianna were back together. It would certainly explain why Lilianna hadn't been to the apartment in a couple days, a fact the Witchblade had refused to let her worry about. Much to Sara's surprise, all she felt now was relief.


	19. Chapter 19

Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Wednesday, August 1, 2001

Nottingham stood in the center of the dojo area of the loft. He was wearing an old set of clothes, black pants and a long sleeve shirt. Suddenly, the Stone of his wedding band flashed brilliantly and the Witchblade gauntlet snicked into place on his left hand and forearm. Nottingham stared at it in wonder before looking up.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm ambidextrous."

"Mm, me too, especially since I only have the left one now," Lilianna murmured, already standing in full armor, her right hand wrapped in silver vines but no gauntlet. "Now try the full armor. Just imagine yourself going into battle, it's what I do."

It took a full minute, but soon he was standing in the same armor he had worn during the Periculum, the pieces forming over his clothes.

Lilianna sighed, "I was hoping your armor would tear your clothes as well."

He looked at her in surprise and, noting the wicked grin on her face, grinned back.

"Later," he promised.

Her grin turned into a happy smile, and he almost gave up on the idea of practicing with the Witchblade today. But he needed to master it, to be able to keep up with her and protect her if it ever became necessary. And, if he was honest with himself, he didn't like having a weapon that he wasn't an expert with.

"Why did it take so long?"

Lilianna blinked. "It didn't. I'm actually shocked it worked that fast. When I first got the Witchblade, I couldn't call on it at all, it chose when it wanted to work. Same thing with my mother, though she was able to call on hers a lot faster than I was since she was already a fully grown woman when she got it. If your speed is any indication, you'll soon surpass me with the Blade."

Nottingham realized that he had hurt her feelings by wanting to already be better than her, and he crossed the room to take her into his arms. The metallic sound of their armor meeting somehow already seemed normal.

"The Blade just knows that I want to keep you safe. I can't do that if I don't have any control. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's alright." She kissed him gently and smiled. "If we're going to be the leaders of the Witchblade tribe, we'll both have to be better than I am. The Blade knows _that_ too."

Lilianna stepped back away from him. "Okay, now the sword."

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1111 Faust Street  
New York, NY  
Wednesday, August 1, 2001

"_Mr. Irons. If you are watching this tape, it means I have failed in my objective, and am most likely back in my own time. To prove that I am from the future, you will find files I stole from the Centre Archives in 2026 in the envelope with this video. My name is Marcus, and I am a member of the Black Dragons, the third team to go by that name so far as I know. A woman came back with me, and she is also a member of the Black Dragons, and the niece of the most powerful Pretender the Centre ever had, Jarod Blake. I would ask you to take my revenge against her, but I am sure you will have your own plans for her, which will be almost as good. Her name is Lilianna McCartey, daughter of Jake McCartey and Sara Pezzini ... "_

Irons paused the video. If what Marcus said was true, it would explain why Sara had helped "Angel," for who else could be Lilianna? It would also explain why Green had disappeared after agreeing to kill "Angel" and why Nottingham had been able to truthfully answer that he had not killed his former brother-in-arms. Lilianna had probably killed Green herself. And lastly, it explained why Nottingham had fallen in love with her so quickly despite his training.

The thing that was most surprising about all of this was the fact that Jake McCartey was Lilianna's father. He was nothing special. A completely normal, flawed human male. What had made him worthy of being the father of such a potentially powerful woman?

Opening the envelope that had come with the video, he found three personnel files and a DSA disk. Unlocking the bottom right hand drawer of his desk, he lifted out a DSA player and inserted the disk. The image was of a training area and in the corner was the caption, "The Centre, Black Dragon Training Room, August 6, 2024."

The surveillance played back, and Irons watched in amazement as he himself walked into the room. It had been a long time since anything had amazed him.

_To another man standing to the side, he ordered, "Bring them in."_

_Thirteen individuals dressed in the "uniform" of Centre captives, which looked a lot like hospital scrubs, marched in, four of them women. One of the women was the girl Nottingham called Angel, and one of the men was Marcus._

"_Lilianna, prepare to defend yourself. The five of you, attack her."_

_What followed was an amazing flurry of activity that would have put the original Black Dragons to shame. Just as it looked like Lilianna would be overcome by her teammates, the Witchblade slid into place on her arms and she handily defeated everyone who attacked her, none of them out of commission permanently. Irons motioned the remaining Dragons into the fray, but they too were defeated._

_At the end, Lilianna stood over one of the young men, a claymore in hand._

"_Kill Derek," Irons ordered._

_The sword disappeared and Lilianna gave him a dirty look. "No."_

Anger ripped through Irons and he turned off the DSA. Looking through the files, which pertained to Lilianna, Marcus and Jarod individually, he came across notations in his own writing. One of these noted the sudden appearance of the Witchblade around Lilianna's neck at the age of thirteen, another confirming that although Lilianna now wielded the Blade, her mother still had hers. Yet another indicated that his future self was sorry he had killed Nottingham, for if the man destined to Wield the Blade had loved Lilianna, he would have had a way to control them both, and three times as many chances to get the Witchblade back for himself.

Irons restarted Marcus' tape, listening with full attention this time.

"... _she was born in your office shortly after you killed her father and Nottingham. You took her from her mother and completely abandoned the idea of controlling Sara, knowing Lilianna was more important in the scheme of things. But things didn't go so great. Lilianna and I were sent back to stop the destruction of the universe, triggered by a demon god named Glorificus who eventually took control of Sara Pezzini's Witchblade. I suggest you not kill any of them but find a way to control them, perhaps through their families. Jarod is very important to Lilianna, and one of the most important people to him is his future wife, the woman known as Miss Parker in your time. If, even with all I've told you, you don't believe me, go to the abandoned warehouse you used to smuggle in a shipment of brainwashing drugs three years ago. There will be a VCR with a tape I think you'll find of interest in the office. Oh, and one more thing, I was the one who stole the prototypes from your lab, so you don't need to worry about corporate espionage."_

The tape ended, and Irons punched a button on his intercom system. His secretary, a beautiful but emotionally frozen and professionally capable woman, walked in and moved her lips into the empty echo of a smile.

"Tell my chauffeur I'll be down in five minutes and send in the Lieutenant. Oh, and tell R and D that their prototypes were destroyed before they fell into the wrong hands and I expect three more sets within the week."

"Yes, sir." She made a notation on the notepad in her hand. "Shall I tell Security to stop Mr. Nottingham when he shows up?"

"No, it isn't time for that yet. Do tell them, however, to report his every move directly to me."

"Yes, sir."

Irons watched her hip-swaying walk as she left the room. Perhaps he should invite her to the mansion tomorrow night. She was good for an occasional dalliance, he gave her exactly what she expected, a good time and a nice bonus the following payday. Her allegiance was to him, but she harbored no delusions about her place in his life. He would have to consider promoting her somewhere down the line.

Several seconds after the door had shut behind her, it opened again to admit a man in his late thirties dressed in dark khaki green. His brown hair was a washed out shade and cut military short. His eyes were a muddy hazel and on the dull side. But Irons didn't employ him for his looks, or lack thereof. The Lieutenant had been dishonorably discharged for killing a man in a bar fight with his bare hands, a fight he had started.

Irons had hired him the next day. That had been nearly fifteen years ago. The Lieutenant, who hadn't gone by his real name for so long that Irons didn't remember what it was, was his "second shift" bodyguard, and the one he sent to take care of things that weren't quite important enough to send Nottingham to do. He had been the second choice since Nottingham had returned from his European training.

The Lieutenant and Nottingham had never met, but the older man had seen recordings of some of Nottingham's work. He had resented not being the top choice after Nottingham had assumed the role, and Irons knew he would have no qualms taking on more responsibility now that Nottingham had begun to stray. Writing down the address of the warehouse Marcus had described, Irons handed it to the Lieutenant.

"There should be a tape in a VCR in the office of this building. After you've swept the warehouse for anything unusual, bring it back here. Things are going to be changing in the next month. Do you feel you can handle your old responsibilities again?"

Irons didn't need to clarify that this meant the Lieutenant would be his right hand once more.

The Lieutenant nodded and asked, "Do I get to kill him?"

"No, he's more valuable alive. He will not be informed of any change until I feel it is time. I will have to decide exactly what I'm going to do with him."

"Yes, sir." Knowing he was dismissed, the Lieutenant left the room.

Irons sighed. As capable and ruthless as the Lieutenant could be, he would never be Nottingham's equal. Irons was still incensed that the clones of Nottingham had been destroyed, and he wondered if it had anything to do with Lilianna. But that wouldn't explain the white-haired young woman on surveillance that Dr. Sandeman assured him could not be from Manticore, despite her barcode.

The oldest Manticore transgenic was still only ten years old, and the X-4s, the first transgenics to actually appear completely human, were toddlers. The X-5s had been born at the end of last year. The trail had ended there. The girl with white hair was a complete mystery. Her picture did not appear in any database, and she hadn't left a single fingerprint in the mansion.

Irons regretted, once again, the failure of the rest of the Black Dragons to remain obedient to him. Perhaps he could find a way to bring Mobius and McGill back under his control once the Witchblade situation was resolved. Either that or he would have Lilianna, Sara or Nottingham kill both of them once the three people linked to the Witchblade were his to command. But would Lilianna's life be enough to keep both Sara and Nottingham in line? Only time would tell. As for trying to capture Jarod as Marcus had suggested, the Centre had been trying to do that for five years with no luck. As soon as things here were straightened out, he'd have to make a trip to Blue Cove and decide whose fault it was.


	20. Chapter 20

**Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Thursday, August 2, 2001**

Nottingham came home from tailing Sara with a fist-sized lump in his inner jacket pocket and carrying a bag from a pet store. Curious, Lilianna watched him from her spot upside down on the training mat. She was currently timing herself in a handstand, twenty pound weights balanced on each of her feet. She had been at it for fifteen minutes and 43 seconds, and though the blood was pounding in her head, she knew she could hold the position for at least another five minutes.

_On the other hand_, she thought when a strange chirping sound issued from Nottingham's coat, _just because I can doesn't mean I need to right now_.

Lilianna righted herself slowly, shifting her body-weight to her shoulders and then her back before bending her knees and lifting the weights off her feet. Putting them back where they belonged, Lilianna headed for the kitchen. Nottingham was setting a dish on the counter with something in it that smelled awful, a scent somewhere between rotting meat and fish. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small kitten, setting it in front of the food dish. The little animal was black, clumps of dirt and bald patches almost hiding the color. The kitten turned wide green, frightened eyes in Lilianna's direction and flung itself at Nottingham's chest, digging into shirt and skin with tiny claws.

Nottingham gently pried the small cat free and handed it to Lilianna. She knew he wanted the kitten to immediately accept her, so she took it from him. Lilianna cradled it against her chest where it would hear and feel her heartbeat and gently stroked the little creature until it relaxed. She had, on a few occasions, been allowed to interact with rabbits at the Centre as a little girl, and the nurturing of small things had been automatic even then. Something Irons had never been happy about.

Shutting out thoughts of the second biggest thorn in her side, Lilianna set the kitten down on the counter. It made its way slowly to the food dish and began eating. Noticing that the little animal glanced around furtively after every bite, Lilianna took Nottingham's hand to lead him away, hoping the kitten would be able to relax if it didn't feel crowded.

"It's funny," she commented, "I always pictured you as a dog person."

"I am," he agreed. "Brando is kept at the mansion, it wouldn't be fair to stick him in the apartment all day." The Witchblade showed her a flash of the dog as Nottingham spoke; it was a large Rottweiler completely devoted to Nottingham. "But when I found this kitten stuck in a tree while I was tailing your mother, I couldn't just leave it there. The neighborhood boys like to torture it."

Lilianna didn't need to ask to know that the Witchblade had shared that information with him, or why he could identify so easily with something that was regularly tortured. She could too. The question was why the kitten had caught the notice of the Blade in the first place.

"It needs a name," she told him.

Nottingham studied the small animal for a minute. "How about Bast?"

She was about to make a sarcastic remark about naming such a mangy animal after an Egyptian goddess when something stopped her. The Witchblade hummed, and a strange vision of white hair, black hair, two pairs of violet eyes and a giant ring of metal with strange symbols swept through her mind's eye. Bast's face, no longer scared but still tiny, superimposed over the other images. Just as quickly, the vision was gone. She turned to Nottingham and he nodded. He had seen it too.

Bast it was.

Having finished eating, the kitten was sitting on the edge of the counter, watching them. Bast tried unsuccessfully to remove a clump of dirt from her fur with her tongue, wrinkling her small face in an almost human expression of disgust.

"Do you think we should give her a bath?"

"We have to get her clean somehow, but housecats hate water," Lilianna answered.

But Bast seemed to make a liar of her by jumping down into the sink. Her small black face peered over the lip of the sink at them, and she chirped. Not a mew, a meow, a purr or even a hiss; it was a definite chirp.

Nottingham and Lilianna looked at each other.

"I don't think we have an ordinary housecat on our hands," Nottingham noted.

Lilianna laughed softly. Nottingham moved over to the bag he had brought in with him, pulling out cat shampoo and a brush. Setting them next to the sink, he finished emptying the bag, excavating a dry food dispenser and a water dispenser. Filling the water container, Nottingham handed her the dry food contraption.

"The bag of food is just inside the door."

Lilianna retrieved the bag and filled the tub that connected to the dish. She set the filled dispenser on the floor next to where the water one had been placed, out of the way. She and Nottingham faced Bast once again. The kitten was still sitting in the sink, patiently waiting for the two humans to clean her. Turning the faucet so it was away from the cat, Lilianna tested the water until it was warm without being too hot. To the surprise of both of them, Bast walked under the spray and sat there for a minute before chirping at Lilianna.

Trying hard not to wonder how she knew what the cat was asking, Lilianna gently worked her fingers through Bast's fur, working the dirt clumps out. When there were no more clumps to be loosened, Bast gently nipped at Lilianna's hand.

"Your turn," Lilianna told Nottingham, moving aside.

Nottingham frowned.

"Did she hurt you?"

"No, she was just letting me know what she wanted."

Nottingham grunted. To the waiting cat, he said, "Find a way to do it without using your teeth."

Bast chirped, not repentant in the least.

Nottingham picked up the bottle of cat shampoo and squeezed out a few drops. Pulling Bast out of the stream of water, he lathered the shampoo into her fur, working the cleaner into her skin in small circles. Bast's tiny body moved with his hand and the cat's eyes were closed. A rough purr, like a car engine that needed work, sounded from the suddenly spoiled feline.

Lilianna went into the bathroom and got two towels. When Nottingham had finished rinsing the little cat, he turned the water off and placed Bast in the towel Lilianna was holding open. Nottingham took the bundle from her. The rumbling purr could be heard for a few more minutes while Nottingham rubbed the cat dry, but then the sound petered out. Cautiously peeling the towel open, Nottingham smiled at seeing the cat asleep. Lilianna smiled as well and motioned for Nottingham to follow her.

In a corner of the couch, Lilianna scrunched and shaped the dry towel she still held into a makeshift nest. She gently lifted Bast out of the wet towel and lay her in the fresh one.

"Spoiled brat," Nottingham murmured, still looking down at the cat.

Lilianna laughed lightly and began peeling his now damp shirt off over his head.

When he turned his attention to her, she asked softly, "Want to wash me now?"

His green eyes glowed and he smiled ferally.

"Mmm," he rumbled when she massaged his bare shoulders.

Suddenly she was in his arms and being carried to the bathroom. Fully intending to spoil him much better than they had spoiled the cat, Lilianna placed a string of kisses across his chest and at the base of his neck. He set her down gently on her feet when he reached the shower, taking her mouth in a deep, bruising kiss.

"How about a tongue bath?" he asked, his voice still resembling thunder deep in his chest.

Lilianna flushed, but the smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes told him she liked the idea. A lot.

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After an hour and a half in the bathroom, Lilianna and Nottingham had been watching the news for ten minutes when Nottingham's cell phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket, he handed it to Lilianna.

When she raised one eyebrow in question, he told her, "It's your mother for you."

Lilianna nodded and pressed the button with the green phone symbol.

"Hello?"

"Oh, good, nothing's happened to you, wait, why are you answering the phone, are you both okay?"

"Calm down, Mom, we're fine. What's wrong?"

Lilianna didn't need the Witchblade to tell her that Sara was pacing on the other end of the phone.

"Irons invited Jake and me to dinner at his house on the twelfth. I thought he had done something to you and was inviting me over to gloat."

"You really think he'd wait that long to lord something over you?" Lilianna asked dryly.

Sara let out a short bark of laughter.

"Of course not, I should have thought of that. I couldn't figure out how he would have found out the truth about you so fast. But why would he invite Jake? Talking about the Witchblade in front of a cop other than me isn't his style."

"I don't know what he's doing this for," Lilianna answered. "Nottingham and I have been ordered to attend as well."

Sara was silent for a full minute.

"You don't think he knows, do you?" she finally asked.

There was a lot more for Irons to find out than even Sara knew about. Lilianna chose her words carefully.

"Let's just say that if he did know the truth, no one would be answering this phone." After a pause, she continued, "You could always just cancel on him, Nottingham thinks the dinner is just about you and the Witchblade, that if you pull out of it, it'll be canceled."

"Unfortunately your father saw the invitation first. He's very excited about going. Can you think of a reason not to go that he would accept?"

"Not without telling him about the Witchblade. Are you ready to tell him?"

"No."

Her mother's answer was immediate and they were both silent for a minute.

Finally, Lilianna timidly asked, "Do you think you'll be ready before my time is up? I'd like him to know about me."

Sara sighed, "I'm sorry, Lilianna, I just don't know when I'll be ready."

"Okay."

Lilianna's eyes filled with unshed tears and Nottingham reached down and squeezed her hand. She gave him a watery smile and he patted his lap. Grateful for the invitation, Lilianna immediately moved into his embrace. His strength and love buffered her from the pain of not being able to be close to her father.

"I have a half day at work on Sunday, would you want to go shopping for something to wear to the dinner then? I'm sure Kenny expects us to dress up for him."

"I'd like that."

"Alright, I'll give you a call when I get off work Sunday. I have to go now, Jake will be home any second."

"Bye, Mom."

The call disconnected without Sara replying to her farewell, and Lilianna gave the cell phone back to Nottingham. Nottingham tightened his arms around her. Lilianna snuggled deeper against him and sighed, wishing she had the power to stop time and freeze moments like this one forever.

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Sara stared guiltily at the phone she had just hung up. She knew Lilianna was disappointed in her decision to leave Jake in the dark. But how would she even begin to explain the Witchblade to Jake, who was more than a bit narrow-minded? And she was sure there was no hope of getting him to understand that they had a daughter who was around his age. It wasn't something you just calmly discussed over dinner. Sara just wasn't sure Jake would be able to handle any of it.

The Stone of the Witchblade began to pulse, and Sara wondered what it was going to show her. Something to do with Jake, she was sure. But just then the doorknob turned. She yanked the bracelet off quickly, not wanting Jake to walk in on her in the middle of a vision. If it was important, the Blade could show her later.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought or emphasis.

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Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Friday, August 3, 2001  
6:30 am

"Ready to go?"

Lilianna nodded in response to Nottingham's question. Today the Vorschlag building was closed for his annual security upgrade. After a sweep and physical check of Irons' office, most of the day would be spent uploading new programming into the office's mainframe computers and running diagnostics. Something that only required his active participation for five minutes every couple hours. Nottingham had decided Lilianna would come with him and she had been more than willing.

Usually, he spent the time reading or running up and down the halls and the many flights of stairs for exercise, but this year would be different. They were bringing a picnic, and with Lilianna there, he knew he could never get bored. The plan was to show her around the building and eat their packed lunch on the roof of the building. Before leaving, they checked Bast's water and food.

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Nottingham steered the car into his reserved parking spot and cut the engine. They both climbed out of the luxury sedan, Nottingham retrieving the picnic basket from the trunk. Lilianna pushed the button when they reached the elevator bay. The arrow pointing up next to the middle elevator lit up and the doors slid open to reveal Kenneth Irons.

If he was as surprised to see her, as she was to see him, he hid it well.

"Miss DeCarlo," he greeted pleasantly, though of course the warmth of his tone didn't reach his eyes.

"Mr. Irons," Lilianna returned.

She and Nottingham were both wearing gloves so the cameras in the Vorschlag building wouldn't capture an image of the Witchblade rings, but she still had to fight not to hide her hand in her pocket.

"Was there something you needed me to do, Mr. Irons?" Nottingham asked.

His tone was nervous and Lilianna knew he hadn't expected his employer to be here to see her come in with him.

"No, Nottingham. I was simply faxing a contract to Japan I need back by tomorrow morning." A limo pulled up behind them and Irons stepped toward it, "Ah, here's my ride. You two have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Irons climbed into the limo and was gone.

Lilianna shivered. "What wouldn't he do?" she asked in disgust. "And why was he so cheerful?"

"I don't know," Nottingham answered, concern tingeing his voice. But whatever it was, it couldn't have had to do with Lilianna if they were both still as free as they were. He turned to her and smiled in humor, "On either count."

Lilianna laughed and they boarded the elevator, getting off on the eleventh floor to begin the physical sweep.

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Kenneth Irons dialed his cell phone as soon as he was in his limo. One of his lesser underlings answered.

"Are you sure all the security cameras will stay on even if Nottingham turns them off?"

"Yes, Mr. Irons. We set them up exactly as you ordered. If he turns any of them off, the monitors in the Vorschlag building will turn off but the feed will be recorded in your office at your home."

"It better," Irons bit off before hanging up.

Would Nottingham feel the need to turn off the cameras since he knew that Irons had already seen Lilianna go in the building? Irons doubted that even love would make Nottingham do something so against his training, but it was always better to be on the safe side. One never knew when something unexpected would happen.

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An hour later, after setting up the first of the upgrade downloads, Nottingham and Lilianna found themselves on the roof of the Vorschlag building. Nottingham guided her to the edge of the north side, showing her his favorite view of the city.

"I don't suppose we should risk hacking into his files to find out what he's up to?" Lilianna asked as she stared out at the different buildings.

"No," Nottingham answered, watching her and not the view he had seen hundreds of times. "I set those systems in place myself. As soon as anyone attempts it, both Irons and myself are immediately notified. I always run the tests, so I know how good the system is."

Lilianna nodded and sighed.

A second later, her body swayed and fell forward. With a lightning fast move, Nottingham grabbed her and pulled her against him, away from the fall that would have killed even him. His heart pounded a mile a minute in his chest, and he knew that if she had fallen, he would have jumped off after her. Moving them both away from the edge of the building, he examined her for sign of injury, something to explain the near miss. There wasn't a mark on her.

Meeting her frightened eyes, he asked gruffly, "What just happened?"

"I don't know," she answered in a small voice. "I've never had a problem with heights before. One second I was fine and the next the world was spinning."

Nottingham frowned. "I don't think we should stay up here."

When Lilianna merely nodded her acceptance, Nottingham grew more worried. Was this the first stage of her eventual leave-taking of this time? Would the powers that be make her sick before she died or vanished or whatever it was that they were going to make her do? His stomach churned as he packed up their picnic and moved her back into the building. The dizzy spell appeared to have passed minutes later, but Nottingham stayed by her side the rest of the day and she didn't complain.

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It seemed to Lilianna that only a few seconds had passed after she closed her eyes that night before she opened them again, only to find herself back in the same field they had visited during the Periculum. Nottingham was standing beside her, Bast sitting at his feet. The cat chirped when the same blonde Wielder from last time appeared.

"The Periculum isn't over?" Nottingham asked.

"In a way it never will be for the two of you, but you have been fully accepted by your Blades, so there is no need to worry, that part of it is over," the woman said. "There are certain things I will be able to help you with over time, and when you have need of me, I will bring you here."

"Are you our Guardian, then?" Lilianna asked.

"No, your Guardian will appear when it is time. I can only help you here, in the Witchblade Realm. I have no connection to the world of the living. I am your Guide to the Realm."

"What shall we call you?" Lilianna looked down at Bast. "And why is it that we have a cat that is somehow connected to the Blade? We had a very vague vision yesterday."

"My name is Akantha. I can try to focus the vision for you if you'd like."

Nottingham and Lilianna nodded, and Akantha motioned them closer.

"Put your Witchblade hands in mine," she instructed.

They did as she asked. An internal tug seemed to pull the memory of the vision into Akantha's hands, and it took shape in the air before them. But this time, the hair and eyes were connected to two forms, young women in tunic-dresses that matched their purple eyes.

The women were identical except that one of them had black hair and the other white, and the black haired one was darker skinned. They both wore Witchblades and Bast sat between them. The ring of metal was even bigger than they had first thought. Behind the two women, it appeared the ring was at least 25 feet in diameter. Part of the ring started to spin and the vision ended.

"What was that?" Nottingham rasped.

"Who were they?" Lilianna added, her own voice a little rough.

She guessed that using that much power when they weren't yet used to doing things in this Realm had affected them. Though the memory of how the twins looked was already fading, there had been something familiar about them, despite the fact that something about them had struck her as being Egyptian.

Akantha tilted her head as if listening to something. "They are members of the Tribe. Very important members. Bast is connected to them. She is not an ordinary cat. That is all I can tell you. Their identities will be lost to you again very soon because of circumstances not yet in play, which is why the vision was so vague."

"Thank you."

Akantha smiled and nodded.

Bast chirped again and Lilianna felt her eyes close of their own volition. When she reopened them, she was back in bed beside Nottingham. Bast was lying on her left arm just above the Witchblade, purring loudly. Nottingham reached over and picked up the kitten. Getting out of bed he carried Bast to the couch and deposited her back in her towel nest.

"No cat hair in the bed," he admonished.

Bast simply looked at him with half-closed eyes and yawned. Shaking his head, Nottingham came back to the bed and lay down beside Lilianna.

"I have already forgotten what they looked like," he told her.

"Me, too," she confirmed. "But from what Akantha said I think we'll know them when it's time. Maybe it was just the Witchblade's way of making sure we keep Bast."

Nottingham made a noise in agreement and pulled her close to him. Lilianna wrapped her arms around him and snuggled closer still.

"I need you," Lilianna pleaded softly after a few silent minutes had passed.

They had gone to bed earlier than usual and just fallen asleep because he had still been worried about her dizzy spell.

He gazed at her in silence for a minute before asking lightly, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Kiss me and I'll be perfect," she answered, pressing herself against him provocatively.

Nottingham groaned softly and gave in to her request and the demands of his own body.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought or emphasis.

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**Nottingham's loft  
New York, NY  
Saturday, August 4, 2001  
7:11 am**

Lilianna was out of the bed so fast, Nottingham almost didn't see her go. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Nottingham followed at a slower pace and listened at the bathroom door. He could hear her retching and cringed. Yesterday had not been a fluke, she was getting worse. When silence reigned for several minutes after the toilet flushed, he eased the door open.

Lilianna glanced over at him from her perch on the side of the bathtub. Her eyes were glassy and even though they had both gotten a lot of sleep the night before, she looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes.

Taking a washcloth from over the sink, Nottingham helped her clean her face and supported her on the walk back to their bed. He eased her down on to it and felt her forehead. She was warm, but not dangerously so. Nottingham went back into the bathroom and got a thermometer.

He was glad to find that her fever was very slight, only ninety-nine point three. Nottingham gave her some Tylenol and made chicken noodle soup. He brought it to her on a tray with crackers and a glass of 7UP, but ten minutes later when she hurried to the bathroom once more, it was clear she wouldn't be able to keep even that down.

Nottingham didn't want to leave her alone all day, but he had to be at work in an hour. What was he going to do?

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"Hello?"

"Lady Sara. I am sorry to call without permission, but Lilianna is sick and I have to go to work."

"Sure, Nottingham. I'll tell Jake I can't go in to work today. I have a bunch of sick days saved up. Give me your address."

_That was easy_, Nottingham thought as he recited the necessary information. He had expected to at least have to explain Lily's symptoms or why he couldn't get out of work himself. But Irons' threat as to what would happen if "Angel" got in the way of his duties was enough to stop him from even considering the possibility.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"When you drive in the garage, tell the guard that you are delivering a custom sword to me."

"Okay," Sara drew the word out into a 'what am I getting myself into' expression. "Bye, Nottingham."

"Goodbye, Lady Sara. And thank you."

Nottingham slipped his cell phone into his pocket. Sitting down carefully so as not to disturb his wife, Nottingham leaned over and gently stroked the top of Lilianna's head. She opened her eyes slowly and smiled weakly at him.

"I don't like being sick," she said in a pouty tone.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she said quietly.

"Your mother's on her way. She'll stay with you while I'm at work."

Lilianna nodded and closed her eyes, turning her body toward him.

"Can you sit up?" he asked.

Her eyes reopened and, with Nottingham's help, Lilianna sat up slowly. Lilianna took a few deep, slow breaths.

"Do you need to go in the bathroom again?" Nottingham asked gently.

"No, I'm okay for now, I just got a little dizzy."

Nottingham rubbed circles on her back soothingly. He reached over and picked up the brush on the nightstand.

"Want me to brush your hair for you?"

"Please," she answered, nodding.

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Nottingham began brushing her hair with slow, gentle strokes. Lilianna closed her eyes again. She enjoyed the gentle tug and release rhythm of the brush running through her hair. When the brush went through her hair without catching at all, she felt Nottingham set the brush aside.

She was only slightly surprised when he manipulated the long strands into a loose braid. Nottingham lifted the braid over her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck tenderly. He laid her back on the bed and she smiled lovingly at him. He was so good to her.

"I..." she started softly.

A wave of nausea hit and she clamped her mouth shut. Nottingham frowned and watched her carefully. When her body relaxed, he released the breath he had been holding.

"Me, too, baby. Me, too."

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The landline rang and Nottingham picked it up. "Yes?"

"Mr. Nottingham, there's a woman here who claims to be delivering a sword."

"Let her through, Tannen."

"Yes, sir."

Nottingham hung the phone up and slipped on his gloves. It wouldn't do for Sara to find out he was a Wielder until Lilianna decided the best way to tell her. Besides, Irons might be able to read the discovery through his connection to Sara's Witchblade. Realizing the new form of Lilianna's Blade would also come as a shock to Sara, Nottingham moved back over to his resting wife.

"Lily, what are you going to do about your Blade?"

Lilianna opened her eyes again. Looking down at her ring, she frowned. A few seconds passed before it shifted, changing shape into a bracelet that was the same design as her ring, only proportionately bigger.

Her eyelids fluttered, and Nottingham leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Go back to sleep, baby."

A minute later, the elevator doors opened and Sara walked into his loft. She glanced around the room and her mouth fell open.

"Damn, Nottingham, I never knew the assassin business paid so well," she commented.

Nottingham raised both eyebrows and indicated the loft with a sweep of his arm, "Let me show you where everything is."

Nottingham gave Sara a quick tour, ending with the kitchen.

"There's soup in the refrigerator if she feels like eating later. I left the crackers on the counter and the 7UP is put away. Glasses are over the sink, and bowls are to the left. This drawer has the silverware. Feel free to partake in anything for yourself."

Sara glanced at the floor. "Ah, Nottingham, why is there cat food and water on the floor?"

Bast chose that moment to leap down from the top of the refrigerator onto the counter. She was only a few inches from Sara, and when the animal chirped, Sara jumped.

"They are for Bast." Nottingham answered, scratching the cat's tiny head. "She is not allowed on the bed, so please do not let her bother Lily."

"Sure, Nottingham."

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Sara watched as Nottingham kissed a sleeping Lilianna goodbye on the forehead. He bowed his head to her before leaving. Giving Bast, who was still sitting on the counter, a once over, Sara moved out of the kitchen area.

"Well, knock me over with a feather," Sara muttered. "Nottingham has a cat."

Sara couldn't decide if it was sad or touching that his cat was as mangy as it was. The little animal had obviously been through something. It had bald patches and a couple scratches that didn't look as if they had been made by another animal. Maybe Lilianna had found it.

Sighing, Sara leaned over the still form of her daughter and checked Lilianna's forehead with her hand. It was warm, but not hot enough to be concerned about. Studying Lilianna's sleeping form, Sara's gaze was caught on her hands. Her Witchblade rings were gone. Sara relaxed when she noticed the bracelet now in place on Lilianna's left wrist. The latest design her daughter's Blade had taken was beautiful, a silver dragon clutching the red Stone in its claws.

Assured that her daughter was fine for now, Sara went back into the kitchen and set about making herself coffee.

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Nottingham drove Jake's car back into the loft's parking garage. It was half past six and Jensen was on guard duty. When Nottingham had left earlier in the day, he had driven Jake's car out to the sidewalk so Tannen would think Sara had left. Jensen seeing him on the way in, Nottingham wasn't worried about. He was constantly switching cars and building security was used to it. He would just have to tell Sara to leave the parking garage by the south entrance so no one noticed a woman driving the car back out. Though Irons' other lackeys were known to come and get Nottingham's cars, none of them were women.

When the elevator doors opened to reveal his home, a gun was leveled at his heart. He calmly lifted his hands in surrender and waited.

"Sorry, Nottingham. All day I've been having little daydream nightmares about Irons dropping by."

Nottingham nodded his understanding and came into the room when Sara moved aside, putting her gun away in the process.

"How is she?" he asked softly when he noticed that Lilianna was sleeping.

"Better. About ten minutes after you left this morning, she woke up. She threw up twice, but other than being really tired, she's been okay since this afternoon. She had some soup and just fell back asleep about half an hour ago. We talked and watched TV most of the day. She's going to call me tomorrow if she's feeling better so we can go shopping after my shift."

Nottingham nodded again, but Sara couldn't help but notice the worry hadn't left his face or his stance.

"Is something else wrong?"

Nottingham hesitated before sharing, "She had a dizzy spell yesterday and today she was worse. I'm afraid that she's sick, that she'll only get worse, and that this is how the Powers That Be are taking her back to where she came from."

Sara looked startled and stricken. "Do you really think they'd do that to her?"

"I don't know, Lady Sara. But it has become my greatest fear."


	23. Chapter 23

**NYPD 11th Precinct  
New York, NY  
Sunday, August 5, 2001**

"Pet-zzini."

Sara ground her teeth together and pivoted on her heel to face the Vice Captain. Somehow a couple months ago Vice and Homicide had been somewhat merged and Bruno Dante was now as much her superior as Joe Siri.

_At least professionally_, she smirked to herself. The Blade on her wrist warmed in agreement.

"You don't look sick, Pet-zzini. You hung over yesterday or somethin'?"

Later it was hard to decide whether Jake saved Sara from answering or whether he had saved Dante from physical harm. How dare Dante insinuate that she would put alcohol above her job? She drank less than most of the other detectives, and never when it would interfere with work. And lately she hadn't been drinking at all. But god forbid Dante should ever find out the reason for that.

"I told you yesterday, Captain," Jake said. "Sara's sister Angel is really sick."

"That's right," Dante said in a tone that Sara supposed was meant to convey forgetfulness. The calculating look in his beady eyes ruined the effect. "She better now?"

"Some," Sara answered. "We think it's a flu of some kind. Her boyfriend is taking care of her today."

Sara shuddered when Dante got a disappointed look on his face. "Anyone I know?"

He lifted his coffee mug to take a sip and Sara tried to figure out a way to drop something disgusting in the mug. Preferably something slowly and painfully lethal.

"You may have met him," Jake answered for her. "He's Kenneth Irons' bodyguard."

Evidently this news caused some of Dante's coffee to go down the wrong pipe, because his eyes watered and he started coughing violently. Sara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Jake thumped ineffectually on the other man's back a few time. Dante waved Jake away and gained control of his breathing.

Too bad, Sara thought as the dark man walked to his office.

On the way, she could hear him wheezing, muttering something under his breath about a "sweet young thing" and a "psychotic freak". Sara felt bad for a moment when she realized that Dante's thoughts were similar to what hers had been. But, at least she had been somewhat open-minded and had given Nottingham a chance to change her mind, with a little help from the Witchblade of course. Jake asked her a question about one of their pending cases and Sara turned her attention to work.

An hour later, just as she and Jake were about to head out on an information gathering trek, her cell phone rang.

"Pezzini."

"Hi, Mom."

Sara smiled. "Hey, hon." Jake looked at her with a frown, which disappeared when she continued talking. "Feeling any better?"

"Some," Lilianna answered. "I was a bit queasy earlier this morning, but it passed. Nottingham's been in and out all morning, checking on me every time he gets a spare minute."

Sara laughed lightly, even though she understood Nottingham's concern. No need to burden Lilianna with the thought that maybe her illness was only a sign of what was to come.

Lilianna continued, "So I thought we could go ahead and give the shopping trip a try. Nottingham thinks it's not a good idea for you to keep showing up at the loft though, so I thought we could meet at your old apartment and go from there."

"Okay," Sara responded. "I get off work at three, so I'll meet you there around three thirty."

"Alright, Mom. I'll see you then."

Sara said goodbye and hung up the phone.

"I take it Angel is doing better and your trip to get dresses is still on?" Jake asked as they made their way out of the station.

"Way to use those detective skills, rookie," Sara teased.

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**Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Monday, August 6, 2001  
morning**

"You do know you're a cat, right?"

Lilianna and Nottingham were in the shower, both staring down at Bast, who was sitting directly under the spray of warm water, purring. Lilianna laughed when the kitten chirped in answer to her question. The mangy cat loved water like a dog and made sounds like a bird. Bast was definitely one confused feline.

Gently scooting the kitten to one side with his foot, Nottingham stepped under the spray to rinse off. He had to leave in ten minutes to guard Irons during a news conference. Lilianna was still a little weak from being sick, but she had insisted that she felt well enough to be left alone for the day. Sara was at work again and Nottingham did not think Irons would give him a sick day to stay home with Lilianna. Not without some serious torture afterward, and he knew that thinking she was the cause would hurt Lilianna more than the punishment would hurt him. When he got out, toweled off and left the bathroom, Bast followed him. A few minutes later Lilianna emerged and stood on tiptoe to kiss him good-bye on his cheek.

At the last second, he turned his head so that she kissed his mouth instead. Smiling against his lips, she took advantage of the redirected target to kiss him deeply, distracting both of them from the fact that he had to leave. The Witchblades hummed and they reluctantly pulled away from each other.

"Be careful," she ordered, her voice a whisper.

Nottingham went down on one knee at her feet and brushed his lips across the knuckles of her left hand. With her fingers still clasped within his, he looked up at her and vowed, "Anything for you."

He turned to leave, but she caught his sleeve.

With a slightly worried expression on her face, she asked, "You do know that I would do anything for you as well, don't you?"

He smiled at her. "Of course I do, even if I don't deserve it. Now rest, I have to go."

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From the balcony, Lilianna watched Nottingham leave the building. Glancing up at her from more than fifteen floors below, he motioned for her to go back inside before climbing into the car that had been left at the curb by another of Irons' bodyguards earlier that morning. Turning around to do as he had indicated Lilianna threw her arms out to the sides to steady herself when the world began to tilt. When the vertigo stopped, she moved inside slowly, taking her time pulling on sweats and thick socks. Brushing her hair took a lot more energy than it usually did, and when the silken, damp mass was finally tangle free Lilianna pulled it back into a quick but tidy braid.

When she felt dizzy again as she tried to stand, Lilianna gave up trying to push herself into doing something and lay back on her husband's side of the bed. Maybe she just needed a nap to get her energy back. Even though she hadn't eaten anything since the day before, she wasn't hungry. Lilianna closed her eyes, letting Nottingham's clean, masculine scent envelop her senses like a cocoon.

"Lilianna."

The voice was a woman's, soft, slightly husky, and somehow familiar. Lilianna opened her eyes and sat up, relieved and surprised not to feel dizziness or nausea. She looked at the woman who was now her Guardian. Her eyes widened and she gasped. She had only ever seen Miss Parker on DSAs before, but this couldn't be her, she was still alive. Then she remembered what everyone connected to the Centre always said to Miss Parker the first time they met her. _You look just like your mother_. Catherine Parker was her ghostly companion. This was going to be interesting.

"May I call you Lily as my son does?"

"Your ... son?" Lilianna squeaked. Interesting, it seemed, did not even begin to cover it.

Catherine smiled, "Yes, my son. Christian was born when Elaine and Angelo were three. I toured Europe for a year to hide my pregnancy from Mr. Parker. But Christian was taken from me before he was a full day old."

"Irons seems to like taking children from their mothers right away," Lilianna said softly, thinking of the events surrounding her own birth. "But, who is his father?"

A brief flash of pain filled the blue eyes that were icy in color but, Lilianna knew from stories Jarod had told her, never in temperature, and she was almost sorry she had asked. Catherine had experienced more than her share of pain in life, but so had Christian, as she would now think of him, and he deserved to know his past.

"I met Jonathan Nottingham when he was only nineteen years old. I never got to know much about him, but we did love each other. He died in a car accident about three weeks after I got pregnant. I never figured out whether he was killed by Irons or Mr. Parker."

"So, his last name really is Nottingham, and Irons shortened 'Christian' to 'Ian'?"

Catherine nodded. Another smile lit her face. "I have some good news."

"Oh? Do you know how to stop Glory?"

"No, this news is of a more personal nature."

Lilianna waited, not having a single idea as to what it could possibly be. Catherine's smile grew even happier, and she announced, "I'm going to be a grandmother."

Lilianna's mouth dropped open slightly. She hadn't expected that. Angelo and Ethan didn't have any children that she knew of, and Elaine wouldn't be with Jarod for another few years. Was there another sibling that she didn't know about? "Who's having a baby?"

Catherine's smile softened, "You."

The Stone of the Blade flashed brilliantly, and it showed her the two precious lives growing inside her. She and Christian were having twins! A little boy and a little girl. She couldn't wait to tell him. Reality prodded her. How was she going to tell him if she and the children were going to reach their expiration date in a little over two weeks? It might destroy him. She put her hand over her still flat stomach. Somehow, she had to find a way for her two babies to live.

Catherine saw the pain and worry flicker across Lilianna's face and told her softly, "Don't worry, Lily. Your life and the lives inside you will be full length ones."

"How? No, forget how, that doesn't matter anymore. When? Will I be sent back to the future? Will Christian ever see his children? What's going to happen to all of us?"

"I don't know, dear, THEY only told me to tell you that. THEY keep me in the dark more than I like, but at least you know you and the babies will live."

Lilianna swallowed back the urge to cry and nodded. Catherine vanished a moment later, and Lilianna wrapped her arms around her knees. Then her inner strength, the strength she had thought abandoned her when she came to this time, returned. She stood, shaking off her melancholy. Perhaps it was time she paid Gabriel Bowman a visit. He had always been able to help her mother with strange problems. This, as well as everything else in her life, certainly qualified.


	24. Chapter 24

"Can I help you?" Gabriel frowned at her ring.

"I thought maybe you could help me like you have my mother," she said and waited to see just how perceptive he was.

She had a theory about him, and she wanted to see if her suspicions were true.

It took a minute, but a light filled his eyes. Instead of revealing what he knew, he turned and fiddled with a skull on the shelf behind him, saying to her, "I don't really have many female clients, and certainly none old enough to be your mother, Miss."

"Since I'm only a few years younger than her, Sara would certainly thank you for that. It makes sense that you wouldn't make the connection."

He spun around and glared at her. She smiled, and he relaxed.

"I knew as soon as I walked in on that murder scene that knowing your mother was going to be very interesting."

Lilianna smiled again. "You're a telepath, aren't you?"

Gabriel looked away for a moment, then admitted, "Limited."

She nodded. He pursed his lips and she was momentarily struck by how red they were, how young and innocent they made him look. They both smiled, knowing he was anything but. Walking to the back of the store, he gestured for her to follow.

"Now what exactly do you want my help with? You seem to have a lot of problems."

_That is the understatement of the century_, she thought.

He grinned and shook his head, "Like mother, like daughter."

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When Nottingham came home that night from escorting Irons all day, Lilianna was waiting for him with Chinese take-out on the kitchen counter.

"Didn't want to wait for me to cook tonight?"

She swallowed and looked at him with a strange touch of nervousness in her gaze.

"Is something wrong, Lily?" he asked, concerned.

A woman suddenly appeared next to the love of his life. Wearing a pale blue dress that perfectly matched her eyes, Lilianna's Witchblade Guardian, and maybe his as well, he thought, seemed nervous as she smoothed her rich red-brown hair into place. There was something about the woman that drew him to her, a comforting warmth seeming to emanate from her. When she spoke, his mother's voice hit him like a physical blow.

"She has a lot to tell you and she wasn't sure where to start, so I decided to take over this bit of news for her."

"Mother?" he breathed, already knowing that he was right.

Tears filled her eyes and she smiled, "How I wish I could touch you, Christian. My baby, my son."

He memorized every detail of the woman who had given him life, and who he now knew had indeed loved him. Still loved him, even though she no longer drew breath.

"When?"

Knowing what her second youngest child was asking, Catherine answered, "Right after I gave birth to your younger brother Ethan. Raines executed me on delayed orders from Mr. Parker."

Christian paled, and he looked at Lilianna with panic in his gaze, "Ethan? Lilianna's Uncle Ethan?"

"Don't worry," Lilianna immediately soothed. "He's my half uncle, remember? Catherine is his mother, but his father is my grandfather. He's only your half-brother, and none of Catherine's blood runs through my veins. You and I are not related in any way."

He heaved a sigh of relief and looked at Catherine again. His mother had been a very beautiful woman. She smiled lovingly at him and blew him a kiss.

"We'll talk again, my son. Right now Lily needs to tell you some things."

Before his mother could disappear, his wife, if not legally at least in his heart and soul, asked her softly, "Is there any more news?"

Catherine shook her head sadly and vanished. Christian walked over to Lilianna and she immediately took him into her arms. They just held each other, and Lilianna felt him smile against her neck. After a few minutes, she pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. "I have some more big news, but first I need to tell you that I went to see Gabriel today."

Christian stiffened momentarily, remembering the time he had threatened the younger man if he didn't stay away from Sara. Gabriel hadn't listened, of course, but Christian had never had to share that fact with Irons since he never asked about the young man after his initial order to scare Gabriel. But the boy probably still didn't like him much.

"It's okay," Lilianna assured him, "I explained to him a little of what it was like for us growing up and told him you would never hurt him if I asked you not to, so he's beginning to forgive you."

Christian breathed another sigh of relief and kissed his wife's forehead. "Why did you go see him?"

"I went to ask for his help. He's been helpful to Mom several times, and he's a whiz at research. He's going to track down what he can on Glory, Hellmouths, Slayers and Jarod. And, most importantly, a way to get you to the future if need be, so we aren't separated for any amount of time."

"You really think he'll be able to do all that?"

Lilianna looked at him with love in her eyes, and something else. "I hope so, especially now." She took a breath and before he could ask why especially now, she told him. "We're going to have twins."

The Witchblade immediately showed him the two tiny lives inside her, and he could tell from the urgency of the images that the Blade had been anxious to show him but had waited for Lilianna to tell him first. Lilianna bit her lip when he remained silent, waiting for his reaction. Christian sank to his knees in front of her, lifting her T-shirt and tugging her sweats lower on her hips to expose her abdomen. Lilianna sucked in a breath when he gently kissed the still flat area.

Tears of happiness filled her eyes when he whispered gruffly to her stomach, "I'm your Daddy."

He pressed the side of his face against her and wrapped his arms around her, just holding on. Lilianna lowered her hands to rest on his head. They stayed that way for several minutes, until Christian suddenly stood up and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to their bed and lay down beside her. "We won't hurt them?"

Knowing what he was asking, she shook her head and eagerly accepted his kiss. He made love to her tenderly, worshipping her with his body and soul.

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Talismaniac  
Gabriel's Home  
New York, NY  
Tuesday, August 7, 2001

"Are you going to tell Sara?"

For a minute Gabriel's question threw her, and Lilianna stared at him. She had just walked into Talismaniac, hoping that Gabriel had been able to find out something during the night. Realizing he meant a combination of her deepest feelings for Christian and the existence of their children, and grateful that he had waited to ask her until Christian had found out about the babies, Lilianna shook her head.

"I'm not ready to tell her yet."

"Knowing that he knocked you up won't improve her opinion of him, especially since you guys aren't legally married."

Lilianna rolled her eyes at his blunt way of putting it, but silently agreed. The last time Sara had expressed an opinion, she was barely tolerant of the fact that the two of them lived together. Lilianna didn't know what her mother would do if she knew the whole truth.

"C'mon. I have to show you what I've found quickly. I have a client coming in for a pick up in ten minutes. He's majorly paranoid."

Lilianna followed him into the back. He pulled a stack of papers out of a file and spread them out, grouping them on the table.

"I haven't been able to find anything at all on Glorificus, but I have made some progress on Hellmouths and Slayers."

He looked up from the papers to study her, a kind of sizing up, as if comparing her to something.

"Slayers kind of remind me of you and Sara. The Slayer is a girl, only one at a time in the whole world, who has special powers and abilities to fight evil. Mainly vampires and demons. At least, there's only supposed to be one. Seems there're two now. Rumor has it that the first one died and was brought back somehow."

Lilianna nodded, she had known some of this already.

Gabriel continued, "As for the Hellmouths, I looked into all the ones you and Sara already found and discovered that over half of them are sealed. With two more active ones that I found during my research, that makes eleven active in the US. With a few more days, I could cross-reference the locations with instances of bizarre happenings that halted for no apparent reason. That should help us narrow down which ones the Slayers live near."

"You are good," she complimented. "What about Jarod and Christian?"

He picked up one of the stacks of papers and handed them to her. She could see now that several of them had newspaper articles about some of Jarod's exploits.

"All I've been able to find so far on your uncle are things he's already done. I'm not sure I'll be able to find him for you." There was no mistaking the apology in his voice.

Lilianna hastened to reassure him, "You've done more for me already than I had any right to ask."

Gabriel smiled at her, telling her softly, "I don't know how exactly yet, but my life is somehow linked to yours and Sara's. I would do anything I possibly could to help either of you."

"I hope you know that goes both ways," she assured him, and he nodded, a suspiciously watery look to his eyes.

Gabriel cleared his throat and told her, "I've found two options to try and get Nottingham to the future should it come to that, but both ways have major obstacles. One is using a cryogenic chamber. But no one knows yet if anyone will be successfully revived from one and they cost a great deal of money. Somehow I can't sees Irons shelling out the cash so Nottingham can be with you." Lilianna laughed dismissively at the idea. "The other way is a mythical crystal that may actually have basis in fact that can be used to travel through time. Legend has it that Hercules once used it to thwart Hera."

"Greek mythology?" she asked in astonishment.

"I know, that's how I reacted at first. But there is evidence that the Olympians did exist in some form or another thousands of years ago. The crystal was a prized possession of Julius Caesar, and it's been rumored to have appeared here and there through the centuries, but there hasn't been any report of it for at least a century, and even if we could find it, no one has any idea how to make the thing work."

"It's something to start with at least," she said. Lilianna looked at the digital clock on Gabriel's computer desk. "Your client is due any minute, I'll go." She handed him a slip of paper, "I can be reached at either of those numbers if you ever need anything. I think it's best if I stay away for awhile. God only knows what Irons would think if he found out I was visiting you."

Gabriel paled and nodded. He surprised Lilianna by pulling her into a quick hug before leading the way back out to the front of the store.

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Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Thursday, August 9, 2001

Lilianna's cell phone rang, the tones mimicking a few bars of a Mozart piece. She and Christian were sharing a bubble bath, and he was washing her back and neck caressingly, but Sara and Gabriel were the only two people who had the number, so she reached over the side of the tub to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Is this line safe?"

There was fear in Gabriel's voice, so she assured him, "Perfectly."

"I found out who the last owner of the time crystal was. He doesn't have it anymore, but he does have a ten million dollar reward out for its return."

"Who?" she asked, afraid she already knew the answer. She did.

"Kenneth Irons."

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Christian watched as Lilianna paced the length of the loft and back. She had been at it for ten minutes, their bath having been cut short by Gabriel's phone call.

Finally, just as he was about to physically stop her, she stopped and turned to look at him, "Do you think he ever manipulated time in his favor?"

"No. If he had known how to use something like that, there would have been no way for someone to get it away from him. It would have been beyond value to him. And he never would have chosen for things to be as they are now."

Lilianna visibly relaxed. "Do you have any idea who might have it now?"

"Just one..."

"Susanna." They said her name simultaneously.

Lilianna smiled and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She was happy. Christian smiled at her, knowing somehow that things would be okay now.

Lilianna softly confirmed his thoughts, "I had wondered how she had traveled through time. The Witchblade doesn't have that power, only the power to reverse time, and that only once, which Mom already did. Susanna must have used the crystal in her time to get here and it is only able to exist once in a timeline. If we need it, Susanna will know and she'll bring it to us."

"I wonder where she is right now."

Just then the loft phone rang, and Christian went to answer it. His visage grew dark and angry, and Lilianna knew the person calling was Irons. A few curt "yes sir"s later he slammed the receiver down. He stalked over to the weapon closet and slammed the door shut behind him. Lilianna waited. He came out five minutes later, his traditional bodyguard's outfit on. Anger radiated from him, but outwardly he was his usual in-control self.

"I have to leave right now. Irons is going to London on a business trip and he wants me with him. His plane leaves in an hour."

"How long will you be gone?" She asked softly, keeping her gaze from meeting his so he wouldn't see the pain in her eyes.

"I'll be back Sunday afternoon. Right on time for the dinner."

Lilianna's pain intensified. Practically four days of their time together wasted. When he got back, if she still had to return to the future, they would only have a week left. And although she was sure her sister had the time crystal, there had been no sign of Susanna since the time they had met, and Lilianna was beginning to get worried again. What if she didn't come back? Lilianna did not want to be separated from Christian for any amount of time.

Christian cupped her face in his hands and lifted her gaze to his. "You know that if there was any way to say no to him, I would have."

"I know. Just...be careful."

He kissed her passionately and wiped away the stray tear that had escaped from between her lashes. "I..."

"Me, too," she whispered softly.

He took off his ring and gave it to her, "For safe keeping in case this is more than just a business trip."

Lilianna nodded and slipped it onto her right ring finger, not surprised in the least when it shrank to fit. Then he was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

Kenneth Irons sat in the rear section of his private jet, making business calls. Nottingham was allowed to sit near the cockpit, far away from his master. His thoughts remained in New York, in his loft with Lilianna. It was only because of all his training that he didn't react in any way when his mother suddenly appeared in the seat next to him. How was this able to happen when the Witchblade wasn't on him? Studying his mother, he decided he didn't care how, he was just glad it was happening.

"You can relax, son. I just thought I'd keep you company during the flight and tell you something about your very mixed up family." She smiled and Christian had the uncanny feeling that she was picturing some kind of future family gathering. He wished with all his heart that there were some way for her to be a physical part of it. "You just pretend to stare out the window, and remember not to answer me. First of all, there's your sister, Elaine, though she unfortunately goes by the name Miss Parker for the time being. Everyone says she looks just like me..."

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New York, NY  
Friday, August 10, 2001

Lilianna frowned and glanced down at her ring and at Christian's. The Stones were swirling and glowing, and she closed her eyes to let them see for her. A man was following her. Had been since she left the loft. She paled and opened her eyes. She was leading him straight to Gabriel!

She about faced suddenly and ran after the man. He tried to flee, and she let him get as far as around the corner into an alleyway before closing in on him. She grabbed him hard and threw him against the wall, pinning him by both arms.

"What the hell..." He was obviously shocked that she had caught up with him so easily.

"Irons didn't let you in on all my abilities, did he?"

The man, blonde and on the short side, shook his head, then his eyes popped open wider when he realized what he had just admitted.

"Please, I'm not supposed to come in contact with you, just watch you and report back."

"And when he has all the information he wants?"

For all the fear he was showing, the Witchblade let her know that this man wasn't a good man. Not even a decent one. He had killed for profit but more often just for fun, and he beat his wife and their ten-year-old son on an almost daily basis.

He remained silent, and Lilianna sighed. She snapped his neck quickly and took his wallet, hoping to make it look like a robbery gone bad. She didn't bother opening the wallet, wiping it clean and dumping it in a public trashcan when she was four blocks away. She headed back toward the loft. There was no way she could go to see Gabriel now. How much did Irons already know?

If she had put Gabriel in danger, she would never forgive herself. And what about her mother? Irons was going to be very interested in her if she was talking to not only Gabriel, but Sara as well. Her stomach fell to her toes and she stopped dead in her tracks. Dante! She had told the White Bull leader, Irons' lackey, that she was Sara's sister. And Irons, unlike Dante, already knew about Sara's family. Would he think that she was Emily, or did he already know what Emily looked like?

She couldn't do anything about any of it until she talked to Christian. And until then, she had to take her mind off it somehow. Fishing a piece of paper out of the back pocket of her jeans, she skimmed the list of bookstores for the two Sara had not been able to get to yet. The Blade told her that the second one was the closer of the two, so she turned and let the Blade guide her toward it. Six blocks later, she looked up to see the bookstore across the street. M. Rowkoob & Associates. She laughed softly; "bookworm" backwards. Someone had a sense of humor.

A bell jingled softly when she walked in, and she closed the glass door lightly behind her. An older man with tufts of white hair circling his mostly-bald head smiled at her from behind an old wooden counter.

"May I help you, miss?"

"I hope so," she smiled back. "I'm looking for some rather unusual books. I don't have titles or authors. I just need anything you have on demons, alternate dimensions, and demon gods."

However she had expected him to react, it wasn't the way he did.

"You're in luck, we just got a new volume in." He chuckled. "Actually, new is the last thing you'd call it. It isn't for sale, but you're welcome to take notes. I even have a pen and some paper if you'd like."

"Thank you," she said sincerely and followed him when he led her to a small table in the back of the store.

She sat and waited for him to come back when he went in a door marked Private. He came back with a book that was almost as big as the table she sat at and ten times as thick as the table top, staggering under its weight. She got up and took the book from him, quickly transferring it to the table so he wouldn't notice how easy it was for her to carry it.

He got a puzzled look on his face that quickly turned sheepish, "I don't suppose you can read any other languages, can you? There are only a few entries in English."

"Actually, yes, I can read several languages. I had an _unusual_ education."

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then." And he shuffled back to the counter at the front of the store.

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Mara paid the taxi driver and tipped him generously since he had put out his cigarette when she asked. She grimaced when she thought of how much time she had already spent traveling to and within the city. Too bad it was so crowded. Sparsely populated cities were easiest to shimmer in; unfortunately, on top of the dense population, there were several entities in this city that would pick up on it if she did shimmer. And she wasn't here to fight them.

She smiled at the little old man she assumed was the proprietor of the store. His mouth dropped open and snapped shut.

"L-Lady Raven! What an honor to have you in my humble establishment!"

He pulled up his left sleeve a little and showed her a rather wrinkled Watcher tattoo.

She frowned, "I didn't know my fam ... I was common knowledge."

"Oh, don't worry, you - and they - aren't. I'm retired, but a few years ago I worked with Lana, and she brought me into the fold."

"Well, in that case, it's a pleasure to meet you. I heard a rumor that you had a book of prophecies regarding the supernatural in stock."

"She's back here with it." He began walking toward the back of the store. "She's already been at it a few hours. The number of languages she can read is astounding. I'm thinking of hiring her to do some translations for me. I'm sure she's too busy, though."

She? Mara rounded the last of the floor to ceiling bookcases to see a young woman bent over an enormous book, a neat pile of handwritten papers to one side, her right hand busily writing on a new sheet. Her left hand reached up to turn a page of the book and Mara's eyes fell on the Witchblade wedding ring on the third finger. She gasped. The prophecy had finally come to pass.

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"Lady Blade."

Not sure why she was responding to a name she had never heard before, Lilianna lifted her head to see a stunningly beautiful woman who looked about her own age standing next to the owner of the bookstore. George, as she had learned was his name when he had brought her a glass of water two hours ago, squeaked and ran to the front of the store.

Lilianna stood and shook hands with the black-haired, blue-eyed beauty and was flooded with images of a life so long even with the Witchblade's help it gave her a headache to absorb it all. Mara wasn't anywhere near as young as she looked. The Blade also let her know that Mara now knew most of her life story.

"You knew the tribe." It wasn't a question, but Lilianna's next sentence was, "Do you know where the other Witchblades are being kept?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't. Where is Lord Blade? I'm sorry, where is Christian? And why do you have both Blades?"

"He's in London with Irons."

Mara nodded in response to Lilianna's answer. She looked down at the book and then at Lilianna. "You can read Aramaic?"

"Yes, one of my gifts is languages, though I can learn to read them a lot easier and faster than speaking them. I can only speak eleven, but I read fifteen."

"Well, with the help of the Witchblade and my memories, if the need should ever arise, you'll be able to read, write, and speak over a hundred."

"Wow."

Both women turned to look at George. He grinned sheepishly and gestured for them to sit. When they had, he pulled up a chair for himself.

"I can't believe that both of you are here! Imagine the Lady of Avalon and the Lady of the Blade in my bookstore on the same day."

Lilianna looked around and frowned.

George chuckled, looking pleased with himself, "I closed early. You can speak freely."

Mara smiled gently at him, "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Lilianna echoed.

Mara didn't waste any time. "I suppose you're looking for something on Glory in there?"

Lilianna was shocked, and then she remembered that this woman knew most of her life. A scene played through her head like a memory and she realized Mara had dealt with Glory even more than she had. Another thought struck her. She knew where Glory was now! But if Mara hadn't been able to even dent Glory with Excalibur, she had no hope of destroying the demon god on her own. And she wouldn't let her mother risk her life. Realizing Mara was still waiting for an answer, Lilianna nodded.

"That's why I'm here, too. But then, you probably already knew that. I know a spell that will point us to any passages about her."

Lilianna's eyes lit, "Can I do it?"

Mara smiled almost indulgently, "Sure."

Lilianna drew on her new knowledge and uttered a quick spell in the language of Avalon. The book levitated a few inches off the table and began to glow. Pages flipped until the approximate middle of the book was reached. A passage starting at the bottom of the left page glowed slightly as the book settled back down on the table gently.

Mara scanned the first paragraph quickly, summarizing in English for Lilianna and George, "The Beast will come to the prime dimension and inhabit the body of a male vessel, sharing time with her mortal brother. If the forces of good do not protect the Key, all will be ripped apart. The Prophecies of Aberjian must be fulfilled to bring forth the Created One, whose destiny will be to die destroying the Beast." Mara stopped abruptly, her face paling as she flipped the next few pages before she continued, "The next couple pages are names of people who are necessary to the Prophecies. Some are just titles. You and Christian are in here, as well as most of my immediate family."

Lilianna looked at the pages for herself. There were a lot of names and titles there. She and Christian were listed as Lord and Lady Blade, their birth names in parentheses. Susanna was also listed. She would have to tell her sister, this was proof that Susanna was meant to exist. Another set of names caught her eye; Jarod, Elaine, Kyle, Ethan, Emily, Catherine, Margaret, Charles and Angelo were all listed. But who were Demona and David Blake? And how would Kyle and Catherine help? They were dead.

"We have a little problem."

Mara and George both turned their attention to her.

"Kyle Blake and Catherine Parker are dead. In fact, Catherine is my Witchblade Guardian and Christian's mother."

Mara's jaw clenched, "That's not really a problem."

Lilianna was confused, but she trusted Mara. "Alright."

She finished skimming the list, raising her eyebrows, "Looks like Gabriel was right, the Olympians do exist. Athena, Apollo, Ares, Hephaestus, Aphrodite and Eros are all listed, but who is Psyche?"

Author's note: yes, I know there is a Psyche in Greek Mythology, but for the sake of my story she is a much more recent addition to the ranks of the Olympians

"I don't know, I haven't seen any of them, other than Ares, for quite some time. Maybe someone had a baby in the last few centuries, but Ares didn't say anything."

"And you just saw him yesterday." Lilianna finished for her.

Mara nodded, distracted by something on the second page. Lilianna followed the other woman's gaze and landed on the name "Angel". The one word caused a cascade of images, all of which were somehow muted, some more than others. She realized after a minute that some were someone else's memories and some were Mara's dreams. Somehow this man, this vampire with a soul, was connected on a primal level with Mara, and they had yet to meet. It reminded her of her situation with Christian and she smiled. She wanted to be there when they did meet.

"Can I ask something?" Both women turned to look at George. "What does it mean by prime dimension?"

"When God created the universe, He populated earth with more than just humans. He realized that the different types wouldn't be able to live in peace on such a small planet, so He fractured reality, creating other dimensions for the other beings to live in, though some also live on planets in other solar systems in this universe. But humans are His pride and joy, His children, so they were granted the prime dimension, and this planet."

"Who told you that?" George asked curiously.

Mara shifted in her seat, "Jesus."

"Mary Magdalene," Lilianna breathed in awe.

"But," George sputtered, "you're untouched. Mary Magdalene was a... courtesan."

"No, she wasn't," Lilianna corrected softly, "she was simply a woman alone with money. She was labeled a courtesan because of the prevailing views of the time."

Mara nodded, a distant look in her eyes. "It wasn't the first time I was mislabeled, or the last."

"Oh my," George muttered. He dug in his vest pocket and took out a business card for the bookstore. "I think one of you should take the book. When you're done with it, you can mail it back to me COD."

"But which one of us should take it?" Mara asked.

"You," Lilianna immediately replied, "if Irons got his hands on this ..." she shuddered. "I already have enough to worry about with him."

"That reminds me, if you want to keep Gabriel safe, you should send him away until you figure things out."

"And if I never figure things out?" Lilianna asked in a small voice.

Mara's voice was reassuring, "You will. But until then send him to this hotel. He'll be the only paying guest, but once the inhabitants know he knows about the supernatural, he'll be welcomed. And he'll be safe."

Lilianna took the business card Mara held out to her. "Angel Investigations", it read at the top, with a stylized outline of an angel depicted on the left side. At the bottom, in smaller print, were an address and telephone number for the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles.

Mara frowned thoughtfully. "The sooner you send him away the better. Perhaps it would be best if I helped you get him moved. He can fly out with me in the morning. George, may I use your phone?"

"Of course," the jolly old man replied. He got up and Mara followed him to the front of the store.

Lilianna looked at the book once more. What was a Created One, and how could they let someone come into being knowing he or she was going to die? Well, everyone died; scratch that, she admitted when she thought of Mara's kind, all mortals died, but to "create" someone for the sole purpose of destroying Glory and dying doing it? It felt wrong.

Mara came back a few minutes later, "Are you ready? I called the airline and got a ticket for Gabriel. We should go to Talismaniac now and get him ready. The less time Irons has to do something the better."

Lilianna picked up the book, not bothering to pretend to struggle with it this time. The two women said good-bye and thank you to George on the way out. Mara took the book from Lilianna when they were outside. She passed a hand over it and it disappeared. Lilianna started walking and Mara followed, flinching every once in awhile when a particularly loud vehicle drove by. Lilianna frowned at her.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to those things," Mara muttered. "That's what happens when you stay out of the world for over two hundred years."

"But you wouldn't trade your time with the Dragons for anything, would you?"

Mara smiled. "No, I wouldn't."


	26. Chapter 26

They were halfway to Talismaniac when Mara suddenly stopped walking, tilting her head as if listening to something. A minute later, a woman approached them, one hand at her temple.

"Which one of you is it?" the woman asked, pain in her voice. "Or is it both of you?"

"Just me," Mara answered.

The woman, wearing a business suit under an expensive looking duster, looked to be in her mid-thirties. She raised her head and looked Mara in the eyes.

She lowered her hand, saying, "You must be really old. I'm three hundred twenty-seven and I've never met anyone with such a strong presence. My name is Jane."

"Mara. And yes, I am old. We don't have to do this, I have no quarrel with you."

Jane shrugged. "In the end there can be only One. It's either now or later and I like to get fights out of the way. Nothing personal, it's just the Game."

Mara sighed. "Shall we at least go somewhere a little more private?"

Lilianna motioned down the street. "There's an old apartment building slated for destruction at the beginning of next week down the street from here."

As the three of them walked, Lilianna kept track of Jane's Watcher following them. Did Jane know about Watchers? She frowned when she remembered Jane's insistence that it was "nothing personal," just the Game. She knew from Mara's memories that the Game had only begun a little under four thousand years ago, and that none of Mara's family members actively participated in it. How had the Game started? It seemed a shame that beings who had the potential to do a lot of good chose instead to kill each other off. The Stones of the Blades flashed, telling her that someone else was also following them.

Hoping that it wasn't another of Irons' lackeys, she led the way into the building she had indicated, prying a board loose so they could slip through the boarded-up front doors. What had been the lobby ran the depth of the building, and Mara and Jane drew their swords.

Jane snorted when she saw the word "Excalibur" etched in gold on Mara's blade. "Isn't it a little presumptuous of you to name your sword after a legendary blade?"

"Some legends are true, and some are a little misleading." Mara shrugged in a way that clearly said she didn't care whether Jane believed her or not.

The younger Immortal frowned thoughtfully. "Why don't you want to fight? Don't you want to be the One? To win the Prize?"

Again, Mara shrugged eloquently. "No. I have no interest in the Game. It didn't even exist for more than half of my life. There are many things in the world that are more important."

Jane looked thoughtful again and Mara waited patiently. After a few minutes, Jane put away her sword, and Mara followed suit.

"Is she your student? Your aura is so strong I can't tell if she's one of us."

Mara glanced at Lilianna and smiled. "No, she's mortal. But she could probably kill off a lot of us if she ever had a mind to."

"You may want to keep an eye out for a man named James Stewart. He only hunts female Immortals, says we don't deserve the Prize, and he fights dirty."

"Thank you," Mara said sincerely. "And good luck, if you continue to play the Game."

Jane exited through the back of the building and Mara looked at Lilianna again.

"If only they were all that easy to persuade. But, I have talked my way out of more fights than I've been in." Mara started walking to the front. "Come on, I have to catch her Watcher and make sure he or she doesn't pass on knowledge of me."

"There's someone else I sensed following..."

A sudden commotion at the front door stopped them both, and a man was shoved into the building by a young woman half his body weight and a third his age.

"Susanna!" Lilianna rushed forward to greet her sister. She was pleasantly surprised when Susanna allowed a quick hug before pulling away.

"Ah ah ah," Susanna growled softly, pulling the Watcher back by his jacket. He had been inching slowly away from her, a digital camera clutched protectively against his chest. "You're not going anywhere. There are some Immortals the Watchers should not know about. Try to run again and I kill you."

"Who are you?" Mara asked, having taken a defensive stance upon hearing Susanna's threat.

"She is my sister." Lilianna stated, moving to stand between Mara and Susanna, who still had the Watcher by his jacket. "She's only trying to help."

Mara blinked and shook her head imperceptibly, as if snapping out of a slight trance. "Of course, I'm sorry. I was unaware you had any siblings."

"I'm her half-sister." Susanna studied Mara for a few seconds before telling her, "My name is Susanna Irons."

Mara stared at Susanna thoughtfully for several seconds. She took a single step forward and Susanna tensed.

"May I?" Mara asked gently, holding out her right hand.

Susanna glanced at Lilianna. Lilianna nodded, and Susanna took a step forward and shook hands with Mara. Lilianna watched as her sister's big brown eyes got even bigger. Her own eyes had probably nearly popped out when Mara had shared memories with her, for she knew that was what Mara was now doing with Susanna.

"I'll leave him to you, then." Susanna said a minute and a half after Mara had taken her hand.

The Watcher trembled at the sight of Excalibur when Mara pulled it out.

"Please..." he whimpered.

"Shh," Mara soothed.

She held the sword so that the flat of the blade was perpendicular to the floor. Gently she placed it against the Watcher's forehead, and the man slumped to the floor in an oddly graceful way, sleeping peacefully.

"He'll wake up five minutes after we leave, and he won't remember anything he shouldn't."

"What about his camera?" Lilianna asked.

"We'll have to take it, just in case it does have pictures of me or you."

Susanna crouched and pried the camera gently out of the unconscious man's hands. She turned the fancy machine over and over in her hands, studying it.

"If you two don't mind, I'd like to keep it. I was thinking of getting one like this for surveillance."

"Sure." Mara gestured to the front of the building, "We should go. The less time Irons has to send someone after Gabriel the better."

It was the second time she had said that, and Lilianna wondered briefly if Mara knew something that she didn't.

"You went to see Bowman?" Susanna asked her sister.

Lilianna nodded, "It was before I knew your father was having me followed. I can't let anything happen to Gabriel because of me."

Susanna frowned. "In every timeline I know about, he died because of his loyalty to... our mother. He has an open destiny if he's taken away from all of this." Susanna's jaw clenched and she looked into the distance. "Sometimes it's hard to live that way."

"Destinies can be changed, but only if they were meant to be."

Susanna nodded at Mara's words, and the three women left the building. Lilianna was amazed when Susanna stayed with them, and she held her breath every time her sister hesitated. When they reached Talismaniac, Susanna was still with them. Lilianna turned her concern to keeping Gabriel safe.

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Gabriel watched the surveillance tape for the third time, freezing it on the moment right after Lilianna had closed the door behind herself three days before. There was a shadow on the ground, but the person casting it had stayed out of the camera's line of sight. Someone had been following Lilianna, and chances were great that Irons knew every move she had made since meeting up with Nottingham. He picked up the phone and dialed her number. The ring of a cell phone greeted him from the front of the store.

He hung up and jogged to the front of the store. Lilianna hadn't pulled her phone out and didn't seem about to.

"I knew it was you." She said to his perplexed look.

"What, are you psychic now?"

Lilianna waved her ring at him.

Gabriel shook his head at himself, then remembered why he had been calling her, "There's a guy..."

"He's dead," Lilianna said flatly. "But we do need to get you out of the city for awhile."

For the first time Gabriel noticed the women standing with Lilianna. The first was younger than Lilianna, and her hair was white-blonde, falling to just past her shoulders. Shoulders she was holding very stiffly. When he reached out to her with his mind, he reeled at what he learned. Susanna Irons was strong, stronger and more capable of keeping the Witchblade in check than any of it's other three current Wielders. The strange thing was that she didn't have that much power to wield it, most of what she could do was keep it controlled. She also dealt with more pain and self-doubt in one moment than most people felt in a lifetime. If he had not felt that, along with her developing devotion to Lilianna, he would have been very afraid of her. But Susanna, unlike her father, had her heart in the right place.

The other woman seemed timeless, though she looked about the same age as Lilianna. She was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, with long jet-black hair and startlingly light blue eyes. She also looked very familiar.

"Mara?"

"How do you know me?"

She seemed only mildly surprised, and Gabriel read her flashback to the bookstore owner who had been a Watcher.

"I'm descended from Lea," Gabriel told her, "I had a great-aunt who knew the family history and when I showed an interest in ancient lore, she filled me in. Since I started my business, I've done as much digging as I could, and I've found a few portraits of some of your siblings. I have one of you as Lady Raven."

"What about your parents?"

A dark look passed over Gabriel's features but was gone quickly, "They weren't the kind of people you would want to share that kind of knowledge with."

Mara nodded. "Well, it's always good to meet another family member. I can tell you as many stories as you like on our flight."

"Our flight?" he echoed.

"I don't think it's safe for you to stay here," Lilianna said guiltily. "It was a fortunate accident that Mara and I met in the bookstore today. She's only here on a visit, and she's flying to Los Angeles tomorrow morning before going back to Sunnydale..."

"Sunnydale? Isn't that where one of the Hellmouths is?" Gabriel interrupted.

"Actually, it's where THE Hellmouth is, the one Glory is near. And we've discovered part of what has to be done to beat her, but there's still a long way to go. Right now that's not important. Mara will take you to a hotel in Los Angeles where you'll be safe, but be prepared to see more than you ever imagined was possible. The owner is a vampire with a soul and he and his people help the hopeless. They're all good people, even if they aren't human." Gabriel nodded and Lilianna continued, "Be careful, and hopefully in a few weeks Christian and I will be free to come out there."

Gabriel pulled Lilianna into a hug, "You be careful, too."

"You should probably stay at the hotel with me tonight," Mara said to Gabriel. "Gather together what you need."

Gabriel paled, and his gaze wandered over his extensive collection of rare and priceless antiquities.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of all your other stuff, just gather the essentials and show me where you have a packing crate."

Just then a cell phone rang and Lilianna turned her gaze to her half-sister. Susanna pulled out a small flip phone and looked at the caller ID screen.

She sighed and said apologetically, "I have to take this."

The others waited silently while she opened the phone, answering, "Doe." She listened quietly for a minute before responding to the caller, "It will be done by Monday night."

Susanna hung up the phone, shrugging apologetically. "I have a job to do, I'll try to come back when it's over. Tell Ian...tell him everything will work out and I look forward to getting to know him when I bring the crystal."

"I will," Lilianna answered as she pulled Susanna into a quick hug. "And thank you."

After Susanna left, Gabriel led Lilianna and Mara into the very back of the room. Against the wall were several sizes of packing crates, most of them with labels from distant, foreign countries. Mara indicated one that was a perfect cube, each side two and a half feet long. They left it in the middle of the room, and Mara and Lilianna helped Gabriel pack some clothes in a suitcase, along with a toiletry bag and his laptop. At Mara's instruction, Gabriel turned his main computer off, and he and Lilianna began unplugging all the electrical equipment in the room.

When they were done, they joined Mara next to the packing crate. Mara began to glow, blue flames taking shape around her. She raised her arms, and everything in the room began to float. Mara made a small motion with her hands and all of Gabriel's possessions began to shrink as they whipped around the room, caught in an invisible tornado. A few seconds later, the room was empty except for the three of them, Gabriel's luggage and the now-sealed packing crate.

"Whoa."

Lilianna made a soft noise, agreeing with Gabriel's one word assessment.

"The crate will not open for anyone but you now," Mara said. "If the airport x-rays it, all they'll see will be a vase packed in Styrofoam. This is important, _do not_, under any circumstances, open it in a room smaller than this one, you'll get buried under everything and most of it will break."

"Okay," Gabriel agreed, his eyes wide.

Lilianna handed her cell phone to Mara without being asked. Mara called information and then a cab company, asking for a van so they could take Gabriel's crate.

Gabriel pulled Lilianna into another hug, whispering, "If you need help with anything, anything at all, you call me."

"Ditto."

They let go of each other, and Lilianna and Mara hugged briefly.

"We'll all see each other again." Mara looked confident as she said the words.

Lilianna nodded and quickly left. She didn't want them to see the tears that filled her eyes. Mara wouldn't age, but hopefully the next time she saw Gabriel he wouldn't be twenty-four years older.


	27. Chapter 27

**Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Saturday, August 11, 2001**

Even though Lilianna's cell phone was with her in the firing range, she almost didn't hear it ring over the cacophony of automatic weapons fire. She switched on the safety and set the gun down, answering breathlessly, "Hello?"

"Are you alright?"

"Christian! Yes, I'm okay. I was just practicing with one of your prototypes and almost missed your call. We do have a problem though. One of Irons' men was following me yesterday..."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He interrupted.

"He's dead," she answered. She heard Christian sigh with relief and continued. "But we have to assume Irons knows something. I have no idea what Marcus might have done while he was on his own. He may have told Irons everything."

There was only silence on the other end, and Lilianna got worried, "Christian?"

"Mr. Irons may have had a fail safe device inserted into my head. I can't remember anything that happened yesterday and there's a small incision on the back of my neck."

"Oh god." Lilianna sank to her knees. "What are we going to do?"

"We're just going to have to accept that he may know everything already, but we'll have to act as if nothing has happened. It's the only way we'll be able to wait and see what he does. He hasn't said anything about canceling the dinner Sunday, so we'll all have to just suffer through it. I don't know whether we should tell Sara before or after. She may not be able to hide her animosity during dinner if we tell her beforehand. Do you think Gabriel is safe?"

"I sent him away yesterday with a woman I met at a bookstore. Her name is Mara and she knew the tribe."

"The _Witchblade_ tribe?"

"Yes, she's a twelve thousand year old Immortal. She doesn't know where the other Witchblades are though. Anyway, she took Gabriel with her to Los Angeles this morning. He'll be safe. Oh, and I saw Susanna. She's on a job now, but she's going to bring back the Eye of Kronos when she's done."

_Oh God, _Lilianna thought. _I forgot to tell her about the book._

"Good." Christian paused. "Lily?"

"Yes?"

"If I...can't be freed from Irons, will you leave me?"

"Never," she swore softly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The silence between them this time was heavy with emotion.

"Irons would never have something big go down with Sara if he weren't there for it. I think we should tell your mother _after_ the dinner."

"I think you're right..."

"Lily, I have to go, Irons is coming. We'll talk about it more tomorrow when I get back."

"Okay, be careful."

"You, too."

Lilianna hung up her cell phone and picked up the experimental gun she had been target practicing with. Leaving the firing range, she brought it back into the weapons room and took down a katana. Doing sword katas always helped her focus.

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Angel Investigations  
the former Hyperion Hotel  
Los Angeles, CA  
Saturday, August 11, 2001

Gabriel's mouth fell open when he saw a green man with short red horns standing behind the reception counter. Mara nudged him forward and the green man smiled.

"Sorry about the make-up, kiddies..."

"Speak only the truth," Mara said in Pylean, then in English, "excuse my friend, you're his first up-close-and-in-person demon. It's a good thing you're from Pylea and not somewhere worse, though you're obviously better behaved than most Pyleans. I didn't want his first meeting with a supernatural being to go badly. My name is Mara. This is Gabriel, and he'll be staying here for awhile."

"Oh, he can't do that." The young woman who had spoken, toothpick thin with haunted brown eyes, stood up from a desk behind the reception counter and walked over to stand beside the green demon. "I'm Fred, and this is Lorne, and this is Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless." She paused for a moment after the catch phrase. "We're not really a hotel."

Mara smiled gently at Fred, "I know."

She pulled a packet of papers from the outside compartment of Gabriel's suitcase and handed them to Lorne.

"These are papers explaining that I bought the mortgage from the bank and paid it in full. Angel now owns the hotel free and clear. Starting tomorrow, work crews will be coming in to begin remodeling the hotel so that Angel will have the option of renting out rooms. Of course, he'll have to limit his clientele to those with knowledge of the supernatural. Anyway, I would appreciate it if Gabriel could stay in one of the rooms on the second floor. I believe they're still usable. The construction crew is one that has dealt with this type of situation before, and they'll bring several plans for the hotel, though of course Angel will have final approval."

Fred and Lorne looked at each other.

"Thank you," Fred breathed. "You have no idea how much this means to us. We weren't sure how we were going to be able to pay the mortgage this month and Wolfram and Hart was going to foreclose on us. Oh, but we won't be able to pay the construction workers."

"It's been taken care of. And you're welcome. We can't let the bad guys win, now can we?"

"Sugar, you can each have a whole floor. I'm sure Angelcakes won't mind."

Mara smiled at Lorne, "Just the one room for Gabriel. I have to get going."

"You're not going to stay and meet Angel?" Gabriel asked her. "Maybe he's here."

"No, he and the others are out killing a monster in the sewers near a school." Fred shrugged apologetically.

"It's alright, another time." Mara gave Gabriel a quick hug. "Call me if you need anything, or if they do."

"Thank you, aunt Mara." Gabriel grinned at her.

Mara looked a little shocked, but then she smiled. "You're welcome."

She said good-bye to Lorne and Fred and left. Fred pulled out a sign in book from beneath the counter. She opened it to the fourth page and handed Gabriel a pen. The last entry was from 1954. Leaving the last few spaces blank on the left page, Gabriel signed his name and the date at the top of the next empty page. He left the "planned departure" date and room number blank.

"I couldn't help but overhear you call Mara your aunt. Isn't she a little young?" Lorne asked.

"She's not really my aunt. It's a long story, but let's just say that she's distantly related to my mother and we just became acquainted yesterday. And she's not quite as young as she looks."

"If she doesn't know Angel, why is she doing all of this for him?" Fred asked.

Gabriel shrugged and picked up his suitcase, fully prepared to lie to protect his aunt's past and future. "I really don't know. I didn't ask; she's got more money than anyone could ever spend and she knows Angel is a good guy, maybe she does this a lot. You wanna show me a room?"

"Just the one suitcase?" Lorne asked.

"That and the crate just inside the door. I'll come back for it." Gabriel muttered under his breath, "All my worldly possessions compressed."

"You take him upstairs, kitten. I'll man the phones."

Gabriel followed Fred up a rather impressive staircase to the hotel's second floor.

"You can have room eleven if you want, Lorne's in nine, I'm in ten, twelve and fourteen's bathrooms don't work, and Faith is in thirteen. Or you could have one of the rooms at the end of the hall, I'm pretty sure fifteen through nineteen are in working order."

"Eleven is fine. Does anyone else live here?"

"Just Angel, on the third floor, he used to live here alone. Well, not _live_, but..." Fred smiled at her own joke. "Wesley, Gunn and Cordy all have their own apartments nearby. Lorne used to live at Caritas, his karaoke bar, but it got trashed when they brought me back from Pylea through a dimensional portal. And Faith used to be in jail."

"What for?"

"Manslaughter. She got a little..._overzealous_ and staked a man she thought was a vampire."

"Oh. You said they brought you back from Pylea. Are you a demon, too?"

Fred shook her head. "Gracious me, no. I was sucked in five years ago, and I was a runaway slave when Angel found and rescued me."

"If you don't mind talking about it, I'd like to hear more about Pylea later."

They were standing inside room eleven now and Gabriel set his suitcase down on the bed.

Fred frowned. "I don't know, I don't really like talking about it too much. It wasn't exactly a happy time for me."

"That's alright," Gabriel assured her. "Thanks for showing me the room."

Fred slid her hands into her jeans pockets and rocked on her heels. "No problem. I guess we'll see you later."

"Yeah, I'm just going to unpack now."

Fred left, and Gabriel sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. Living here was going to be very interesting.

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Half an hour later, Gabriel wandered back down to the lobby. The hotel was an impressive building and for the most part it was still in good condition. He was very curious to see the rest of it.

Fred was nowhere in sight when he reached the reception counter, and Lorne was poring over the papers Mara had left for Angel. Gabriel had just opened his mouth to ask if he could look around more when the back door swung open. Five people walked in, all covered, to varying degrees, by what looked like neon-bright pea soup. There were three men and two women, all of them appearing to be in their mid- to late-twenties.

One of the women hung back from the rest of the group. She was covered head-to-foot with the goo, some of it different colors. From her boot-clad feet to her knees the goo was puce and there were swirls of deep red on her arms, shoulders and abdomen.

He realized the red was her own blood a moment before Lorne asked, "Faith, princess, are you okay?"

"Other than really needing a shower and a couple Band-Aids, I'm five by five," her statement was made with head high, but Gabriel caught a flash of gratitude from her for Lorne's concern.

The second female, the least messy of the group by far, held her arms away from her body. "I swear I lose more outfits to demon guts than I do to changing fashion. Once we start getting more clients, we are setting up a clothing reimbursement fund."

"Cordelia," the tallest of them sighed. "I don't want to hear any money complaints right now. Killing that Spectator is going to keep us open and running for another month, and we stopped it from preying on any more children. That's all I care about right now."

"How many eyes did that thing have anyway?" A young black man picked what looked like a tentacle off his sleeve, disgust and resignation warring for supremacy in his gaze.

"Fully matured Spectators are said to have one hundred eyes," stated the third man, this one with glasses and a British accent. Something about the way he had said it made Gabriel think he was quoting a book.

"It must not have been fully mature then," Faith said. "It had seventy-eight; seventy-nine if you count the one inside it."

"And every single one of them a gusher. Bursting eyeballs has joined the list of my least favorite ways to kill something." The dark-haired man who seemed to be the leader of the little group looked at Gabriel and asked, "Who are you?"

Fred came down the stairs at that moment and said, "That's Gabriel, he's staying here for awhile. We have great news, Angel!"

Angel frowned thoughtfully. "If it can wait, let's talk about it in a bit, we all need to wash off, and I'm sure everyone else is tired and hungry. Lorne, you want to order pizza? Is that okay with everyone?"

They all nodded, and Gabriel offered, "I'll chip in if you don't mind sharing."

"Sure." Angel spoke to Lorne again, "Order the pizzas one size larger than we usually get." Then to Gabriel, "Just no garlic."

"No problem."

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Forty-five minutes later, everyone was clean and divvying up the pizza. Gabriel assumed those who didn't live here kept extra clothing on hand. He had been introduced to each of Angel's employees as they came back downstairs from cleaning up, and Lorne had filled him in on how everyone had met while they were waiting. He was most fascinated by the limited information Lorne had about Faith, the second of the two current Vampire Slayers.

She was more withdrawn than anyone else in the group, even more than Fred, who was slightly odd and, Gabriel realized, still getting used to freedom. Gabriel decided he would try to become friends with Faith and find out more about her while he was here.

Gabriel was surprised to see Angel eat two slices of pizza. He had been under the impression that vampires didn't eat solid food.

When the vampire with a soul had finished, he turned to Fred, "So, what's the great news?"

Fred smiled tremulously, and Gabriel smiled to himself. The girl obviously had a serious case of hero-worship going. Lorne handed the papers to Angel that Mara had left as Fred started talking.

"When Gabriel came, a woman was with him. She was very beautiful and very nice. Her name was Mara, and she paid for the hotel! Wolfram and Hart can't take it from you anymore."

Angel looked at the papers in his lap as if they were going to bite him. Picking them up gingerly, he skimmed through them. When he put them back down, he stared at Gabriel for a full minute before asking, "Who is she?"

"A distant relative of mine. She is a powerful sorceress and an extremely wealthy woman. And before you ask why she did this, I really don't know. I only met her yesterday, but I do know that she is very firmly entrenched on the side of good, and she seems to have a vendetta against people like the lawyers at Wolfram and Hart. She knows that these money woes have been getting in the way of your mission, so she got rid of the problem and suggested a way to keep yourself out of it for good."

"The kid's right, sweetcheeks," added Lorne. "There are licenses there for every kind of business you could possibly think to set up here, and maybe making the hotel an actual hotel would be a really good idea. Supernatural folks need a place to stay when they travel, too, and they usually have to stay in little out of the way holes-in-the-wall."

Angel shook his head, "I can't believe this."

"We can all get raises now!" Cordelia crowed.

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Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Sunday, August 12, 2001  
afternoon

The moment the elevator doors opened to reveal Christian, Lilianna pounced. They kissed passionately, releasing the pent-up emotions of the past few days. Lifting Lilianna, Christian took a few steps into the loft so the elevator could close. Lilianna pulled back slightly from him when he set her down and slipped his Witchblade off.

It immediately went back to the correct size, and she slipped it on his ring finger.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"I love you, Lily," he said.

Her smile became dazzling, and she said, "I love you, too."

"I wish there was some way we could get married legally. But if we did, I'd want it to be with our real names, and that isn't possible."

"It would be nice," she agreed. "But it's okay. We are married by the Witchblade, and that's more than enough for me."

Christian scooped her up into his arms. "Right now we have some lost time to make up for."

"Mm-hm," she murmured her agreement as his mouth met hers once again.


	28. Chapter 28

1111 Faust Street  
New York, NY  
Sunday, August 12, 2001  
evening

It wasn't planned, but somehow Christian and Lilianna pulled up to Irons' mansion at the same time as Sara and Jake. Christian mentally compared Lilianna's behavior now to the first time the four of them had been confronted with each other. She had leaned on him and looked as if she would fall to pieces if someone said boo that night at the club, but now, though her fingers were laced through his, it was only to stay connected to him.

She stood tall and proud by his side, smiling at her mother and father. And even though neither one of them wore their Blades, she wasn't nervous. The Blades were hidden in the plumbing at Gabriel Bowman's empty apartment, one of the last places someone would think to look. They had both decided earlier that whatever was meant to happen, would happen. After all, hadn't fate brought them together despite Irons' manipulations in Lilianna's timeline and this one?

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Sara and Jake did a double take when they noticed Christian's clean shaven appearance. Lilianna smiled. She knew it would have surprised her as well, if Christian hadn't asked her to help him do it. She knew, too, that he had done so knowing that being part of the process would take the strangeness out of it.

Christian looked a lot younger without his beard, almost as young as she herself was. He was wearing a black Armani suit with a black shirt and a silk tie the exact shade of his eyes and her dress. She had modeled the dress for him when she got home from shopping with Sara and he had found the tie while he was in London. The dress was sleevless and had a halter top, but was very modest for the style. The skirt was long and had a slight fullness to it. The material complemented her curves and moved rather beautifully.

Christian's hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and his suit was one that had been hand tailored, accentuating his body. Lilianna could barely keep her eyes (and hands) off him. He was more than handsome tonight, he was stunningly beautiful.

Her father looked handsome, too. Jake wasn't quite as dressed up as the rest of them, wearing slacks and a collar-less dress shirt. Where Lilianna's dress perfectly matched Christian's tie and his eyes, the dark blue of Jake's shirt was a perfect foil for Sara's siren red dress, which was an off-the-shoulder mid-thigh little number. Sara's hair was softly curled and feathered away from her face, to which she had painstakingly applied just enough makeup.

Lilianna herself had never worn makeup, it was never brought up at the Centre so she didn't know how. But she didn't mind. Christian looked at her with the same heat in his eyes no matter what she wore, be it baggy sweats or nothing at all. Her reflection in his eyes told her more than any mirror ever could. She had no need for artificial enhancement. His love made her beautiful.

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Sara was in a mild state of shock. Not only had she somehow agreed to this dinner, which had to be a set-up, but the changes in her daughter and Nottingham were mind-boggling. Lilianna appeared confident and happy, and, Sara was happy to note, very helathy, even though she was about to walk into the lion's den. And evidently without the Witchblade. Sara berated herself silently. Of course Lilianna would not wear her Witchblade in front of Irons. Setting aside her worry over Irons for a moment, Sara smiled.

She and Jake had made a beautiful child together. Though actually Lilianna was far from being a child anymore. No, their daughter was a beautiful woman, and the love shining from her deep blue-green eyes was breathtaking. Sara let go of her lingering misgivings about Nottingham and Lilianna's relationship. Nottingham was obviously good for her.

And Nottingham...wow! If he hadn't been raised to be a bodyguard, assassin and all-around henchman, he could have made a fortune as a male model. For an instant, she felt a pang of guilt; Jake had been right, if it weren't for having fallen in love with Jake and Lilianna's claim to the dark, gorgeous man, Nottingham definitely would have been her type. Sara tucked her arm through Jake's and lightly kissed his cheek. He smiled lovingly at her, and Sara forgot how gorgeous Nottingham was.

Nottingham still refused to meet anyone's eyes, but he was standing straight. She had never before realized how tall he was, and Sara wondered momentarily if Irons made him slouch over to hide the fact that Nottingham was the taller of the two men. That thought brought her back to where they were, and she moved forward to embrace her "sister".

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Jake waited while Sara hugged Angel. When she was once more by his side, he nodded to Nottingham. To Angel, he said, "It's nice to see you again. You'll have to come over to our place soon. I'd like to know more about Sara's family."

"That would be nice," Angel said as she smiled at him, affection clear in her gaze. "How are you feeling?"

Although he was disconcerted by the affection he realized he somehow also felt for her, he answered smoothly, "Pretty good, I haven't hit my head in a little over two weeks."

Jake took note of Nottingham's quick grin out of the corner of his eye and was caught off guard when Angel laughed lightly. She had the same laugh as his aunt, soft and musical.

"I was unaware the party had been moved outdoors."

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Irons watched as all four of his guests jumped at the sound of his voice. While Jake McCartey had simply been surprised, he was sure the other three were now on their guard. He frowned momentarily. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at Nottingham and Lilianna. They both appeared serenely happy, and Lilianna's Witchblade was nowhere to be seen.

Did she have it somewhere on her person, or had they left it at the loft? It was of no consequence either way. He didn't know enough about her Blade to attempt wearing it. No, he meant to control it through her, and his trip to London and Nottingham's forced surgery had put him one step closer to his goal.

Moving his plotting to the back burner, Irons smiled at his guests and waved them into the mansion. Irons watched as Nottingham held back, and he and Lilianna followed Sara and Jake inside. At least some things were still the way they were supposed to be.

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Irons led them to the library, and a maid brought in a tray with four champagne flutes and a bottle of Dom Perignon. Jake frowned at the lack of a fifth glass. When Irons offered the champagne to everyone but Nottingham, Jake mentally shrugged. Maybe part of Nottingham's training and duties was foregoing alcohol. Angel politely refused, asking instead for a glass of water. That didn't come as a total surprise as the young woman had also had water weeks ago at the club. But when Sara echoed Angel's request, Jake frowned again.

Thinking back, he couldn't remember Sara having any alcohol in more than two weeks. Sara was far from being an alcoholic, but she did drink with the guys down at the pub that the members of the 11th Precinct frequented. Why was she abstaining?

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Sara noticed Jake's reaction to her refusal of champagne and realized she could tell him about the baby. It had been two and a half weeks, and she highly doubted that Jake would know it was still technically too early for a pregnancy test to have an accurate result. Would Jake be happy about the baby?

Suddenly, Sara had another reason to wish the night would end soon. She only hoped that whatever reason Irons had for inviting the four of them to dinner didn't have anything to do with poisoning all of them. She glanced down at her wrist, but the Stone was silent. Maybe all Irons wanted was to observe them and make Nottingham and herself nervous. It fit what little she really knew of the obsessive billionaire. He enjoyed playing games with people, and she and Nottingham were his two favorite pawns. Sara prayed that he never found out how much more powerful a player Lilianna was in their particular little game than he could possibly know.

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"And what shall we drink to?" Irons asked rhetorically.

Lilianna waited. She, Sara and Christian each had a glass of water now, and everyone raised their glasses in anticipation of a toast.

"To...partnerships." They were all about to drink when Irons continued, "And family."

Lilianna and Christian smiled at each other. Lilianna turned her gaze to her parents and smiled at them as well.

"To family," she echoed, and everyone drank.

Jake asked a question about one of the paintings on the north wall, and Irons walked with him to that side of the room, speaking down to Jake as if he were an ignorant child who knew nothing of true art. Jake corrected one of Irons' factoids and Lilianna silently cheered her father.

Catherine appeared in the room. Lilianna barely managed not to react. She had never taken her Blade off before, outside of the time it had come off on its own to form Christian's Blade, and she had always thought that her Witchblade Guardian wouldn't be visible without it. When Christian had told her about Catherine's visit with him on the plane to London, she had assumed it was because Catherine was his mother and that perhaps Christian had a touch of the Inner Sense like his sister and one of his brothers. Now she realized it was because of the Periculum.

Even though they didn't have the Blades with them, the Witchblade was in their blood, their cells. Catherine smiled and nodded. Lilianna knew that Christian saw her as well, and they both watched as she moved away from them. Walking to the far wall, Catherine touched the spine of a book on a shelf at waist level. She blew them both a kiss, then she was gone.

"What were you two just looking at?" Sara asked quietly.

"My mother," Christian whispered back.

When Sara frowned, obviously puzzled, Lilianna added softly, "She's my Witchblade Guardian, like Maria is for you. She was showing us something, though what it means I don't know yet. Do you think you could keep Irons busy for a few seconds?"

Sara nodded her understanding and acceptance and moved to join Jake and Irons across the room. She asked a question about the crown molding near the ceiling and the architectural origins of the mansion. Irons launched into a detailed description. He loved to show off his possessions. Hearing himself speak was an added bonus.

Lilianna and Christian moved unhurriedly across the room and lifted the book Catherine had indicated. Christian frowned, but Lilianna simply concentrated on Mara's spatial displacement ability and hid the book from reality. She would be able to draw it back out when they were home.

A young woman dressed in a maid's uniform came into the room and announced dinner. Irons offered his arm to Lilianna. With no hesitation, she laid her own atop it. Sara and Jake followed, Christian bringing up the rear. Lilianna knew she appeared completely calm to the others, but she was fighting very hard on the inside not to pull away from the touch of the man she hated above all others. The presence of her parents and her husband gave her strength but also made her nervous. If she made a slip, Irons would already have all of them together.

But whatever else Irons was up to, he seemed content just to let them stew. Dinner passed pleasantly enough, the conversation remaining on neutral subjects. Maybe he didn't know anything important. Why else would he be waiting so long to act?


	29. Chapter 29

**Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Monday, August 13, 2001  
Early morning**

Christian woke to an empty pillow next to his. Pulling on a pair of sweats, he followed the breeze from the open balcony door out to where Lilianna stood watching the city. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back against him. Silence reigned for several minutes. Christian enjoyed it, knowing that all too soon reality would come crashing down on them and he would miss these moments of simplicity.

"He knows too much."

Christian stiffened at his wife's words. "How much?"

Lilianna sighed. "I don't know, not really. But the Blade is anxious. It knows something big is coming."

The Witchblade on his ring finger warmed in agreement, but sent him no more detail.

"Should we attempt to contact Akantha?" he asked softly.

"No," Lilianna said. "If she were able to help with this, she would have spoken with us last night. This is something we have to do on our own."

Lilianna was silent for a few minutes, and Christian could tell through their connection that she was plotting something that would help level the playing field a little.

"Irons has too many men who would stop at nothing," she said carefully. "Men who don't have your honor. If he has all of them at his beck and call when he makes his move, we could be in serious danger."

"And what is it you think we should do?"

Lilianna turned in his arms and looked him in the eye. "It's time to go hunting."

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**Hyperion Hotel  
Los Angeles, CA  
Monday, August 13, 2001  
9:00 am**

Gabriel came downstairs and went straight to the kitchen area in the office. Lorne was there nursing a cappuccino. The demon watched as Gabriel made a sandwich with the groceries he had purchased yesterday. The kitchen of Angel Investigations had not been well stocked when Gabriel had entered the scene. The distant sound of men talking, hammering and other construction sounds could be heard coming from the third floor.

"Can you believe the construction crew has been here since the ungodly hour of seven?" Lorne asked the young New Yorker.

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him, "Sure, I let them in. I've been up since a little after three. Still stuck on New York time."

Calculating that "a little after three" was still "a little after six" in New York, Lorne shuddered, "Young people."

Gabriel snorted a laugh. A moment later Faith came into the room. She glanced at Gabriel's sandwich with a hungry look in her eye.

"There's more stuff in the fridge if you want to make one," he told her. "Help yourself."

"You sure?" she asked.

Gabriel nodded, and Faith granted him a rare smile. He didn't know why, but he felt a brotherly affection for the emotionally complex Slayer. In some odd way, she reminded him of Nottingham. Thinking of the dark man who he hadn't actually seen since before Lilianna had come into his life, Gabriel wondered how they were doing.

"Why don't you call them?" Lorne suddenly asked.

Gabriel and Faith both looked at Lorne like he was crazy. Lorne sighed, gesturing to Gabriel.

"You, my little bon bon. Telepaths project loudly enough that I don't need you to sing for me to know what's bothering you."

Faith turned back to making her sandwich, and Gabriel nodded his understanding.

"Thanks, Lorne, but I don't think that would be a good idea right now, they have enough to deal with. I should probably let Sara know where I am though. I just wish I could do something for Lily and Ian."

"What's the deal with those two?" Faith asked as she hopped up onto the counter to sit and eat her sandwich.

Gabriel told as much of the story as he knew, including how completely psycho he originally thought Ian to be. Faith was fascinated with the knowledge that Lilianna had come back in time to change things, and the Witchblades especially intrigued her. Mystical weapons were few and far between, especially "good" ones. They were deep in a discussion about some of the mystical artifacts he had bought and sold over the years when the phone rang.

Lorne had left the room a while ago, so Faith sighed and picked up the phone.

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless."

Faith listened for a couple minutes before saying into the phone, "I'm sorry you think your wife is cheating on you, but we don't take that kind of case. We specialize in the paranormal."

The man on the other end of the phone evidently hung up, and Faith replaced the receiver. She looked at Gabriel, quirking an eyebrow in his direction.

"So does that mean Lily and Ian can't get legally married? I mean, that would be kind of hard to do if you didn't have your birth certificates, right?"

Gabriel smiled and gave the shocked Slayer a quick hug. She wasn't used to people spontaneously embracing her, and she was surprised to find that the gesture had felt rather familial.

"Thank you," Gabriel said. "Now I know exactly what I can do for them. Or at least, what Mara can do."

Faith watched warily as Gabriel used a calling card number to dial Sunnydale. She listened as he was transferred from Giles to Mara and explained what he wanted to do for his friends back in New York. Her eyes grew wide as he asked Mara to get it all done as soon as possible and then confirmed that tomorrow would be great. Rich did not even begin to cover what Mara must be if she was really able to pull off what Gabriel had requested of her. After a few minutes of small talk, Gabriel said good-bye to his aunt and dialed a new number in New York.

"Hey, Sara, it's Gabriel." Pause. "Yeah, I know it's been awhile, but I know you've been busy lately. I just wanted you to know that I'm safe. I'm staying in Los Angeles. Lilianna sent me away with someone she trusted as soon as she realized Irons was having her followed. She figured she might have led them to me and didn't want to risk it." There was a longer pause on Gabriel's side of the line this time as he winced, and Faith almost heard Sara, who must have been yelling. "I'm sorry, Sara. I thought Lilianna would have told you. Another pause. Yeah, I'm sure I'm alright. I'll call you if I need anything. Bye."

Gabriel hung up the phone and turned back toward Faith. "I think I just got Lily in trouble."

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**11th Precinct  
New York, NY  
Monday, August 13, 2001**

As soon as Gabriel had hung up, Sara dialed Lilianna's cell phone. It was the only number she had that she thought might even have a chance of being safe. Though from what Gabriel had told her, maybe it didn t matter anymore. When her daughter didn't pick up, Sara left a terse message. A few minutes later, Jake walked into their office and gave Sara a puzzled look.

Sara was pacing. When he had left the room, she had been in a good mood. Having just found out last night that he was going to be a father, Jake was still over the moon.

"What's the matter, new case?"

"No," Sara sighed. "Personal problem, has to do with Li... Angel."

"Anything I can help with?"

"Thanks, Jake, but no, this is something she and I have to work out."

Sara smiled at her partner-slash-boyfriend and moved closer, resting a hand on his arm. She wasn't at all prepared for the flood of images the Witchblade suddenly decided to send her. Visions involving Jake, Dante, Irons, a group known as the White Bulls, her father...

Sara paled and snatched her hand away from Jake's arm. When he asked her what was wrong, she muttered 'morning sickness' under her breath and headed for the bathroom before anything could stop her.

After she made sure no one else was in the ladies' room, Sara dialed Lilianna's cell phone again and left a one-question message.

"Did you know your father was an _FBI agent_?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought, emphasis or vision.

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**New York, NY  
Monday, August 13, 2001  
early afternoon**

Christian and Lilianna were running rooftops to their next "appointment" when Christian suddenly stopped short. They had already taken out three of the men they considered the biggest threats. Two in their own homes and one on a job they had interrupted which Lilianna had finished for him since _that_ target had been even more evil than theirs. Christian had been suitably impressed with the lack of hesitancy she showed in picking up the dead man's weapon and putting a bullet right between the extra target's eyes, blowing the back of his head off.

Lilianna stopped too and looked at him, waiting for an explanation. But the Witchblades activated into full armor a moment later, making an explanation unnecessary. Something was happening nearby that the Blades wanted them to stop. They leapt down from the roof to the alleyway five stories below.

At first there was nothing out of the ordinary, but then a man appeared, dragging a young girl with him, a hand clamped over her mouth to stifle her screams of terror. Knowledge and hate flowed from Lilianna to Christian. She knew this man. When she was fourteen, she had killed him in Paris. Her first hit after receiving the Witchblade. He was a serial rapist who had always managed to evade capture, until he had been mysteriously gunned down visiting the Eiffel Tower. 17 lives destroyed and 12 taken in a span of twenty years. Lilianna couldn't change what he had already done in the past five years, but the next fifteen years would be free of his evil.

He didn't see them until it was much too late to try to get away. Christian grabbed him by the neck, the metal of the Witchblade gauntlet digging into tender flesh. The man was either too surprised or too scared to make a noise when he was lifted five inches off the ground. Lilianna gently extracted the little girl from his hold, lifting the child into gentle arms already casting a healing spell so the girl's trust in people would not be permanently destroyed.

Lilianna could feel Christian's tension radiating from four feet away. His first instinct, as well as that of the Blade, was to kill the man in his grasp, but the fact that the child was watching him with wide eyes was stopping him.

"Knock him out," Lilianna said softly.

Christian swiftly complied, propping the unconscious man against the alley wall. Lilianna smiled gently at the girl in her arms, whose lips quivered but curled upward in response. She handed the child to Christian who also smiled reassuringly at the girl. Lilianna took hold of the man's collar and dragged him five feet further into the alley where there was a ladder leading to the roof and a length of pipe on the ground. Propping the man she really wanted to kill again but who deserved far worse than death against the ladder, she picked up the pipe and, with the added strength of the Witchblade, twisted the metal around the man, attaching him to the ladder.

"What the..."

It was impossible to tell how long he had been in the opening of the alleyway, but the newcomer had to have seen something for the note of disbelief to be so obvious in his voice. When they turned to look at the man, Christian eyes widened, and Lilianna's filled with tears.

The new man continued staring at her in shock, his appearance rumpled as if he had been running. Lilianna's eyes traveled over dark hair and eyes, moving familiarly over handsome features that had not yet been worn down with the pain of losing wife and child. She moved swiftly to his side and gently moved him further into the alleyway.

"How far behind you are they, Jarod?" she asked gently.

Her uncle's eyes widened, but he answered hoarsely, "Not far. How do you..."

"There's no time," Lilianna interrupted. "Is it Elaine, Sydney and Broots?"

Jarod nodded.

"Anyone else? Willie? Raines? Lyle?"

Looking dazed, the man she had last seen bursting into dust on the tip of the Witchblade shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Good," she muttered. "Oh God, if only we had more time..."

But time wasn't exactly a barrier to the sentience of the Witchblade, and tendrils from the gauntleted hand she still had on Jarod's arm wrapped around him, showing him what had been for her, what might still be for him. When the Witchblade let him go seconds later, he wrapped her in his arms and Lilianna let her tears fall.

Jarod pulled back and studied her face, softly confirming, "Lilianna."

She nodded and hiccupped a sob, "We don't have time; you have to go."

Christian took a step closer and Lilianna quickly introduced the two men.

"Do you still have the card Mara gave you?" Christian asked his wife.

Understanding dawned on Lilianna and she pulled the business card for Angel Investigations out, handing it to Jarod. "Could you meet us here in a month?"

Jarod glanced at the card and slid it into a pocket. "Nothing will stop me. Bring your mother, too?"

Lilianna nodded and Christian pointed to the ladder their unconscious victim was slumped against.

"There's an open window on the second story you can get into. The building has an exit on the opposite side where you can disappear into the crowds. We'll tell your pursuers you kept running down the alley."

Jarod nodded, and after giving his niece a quick squeeze, did as Christian had suggested. Not wanting anyone to be able to use the girl Christian still held to find out where Jarod had gone, Lilianna used more of Mara's knowledge to cast a spell of forgetting. Less than a minute later, three people ran into the alley. Christian sucked in a shocked breath when the woman leading the charge came into view. His sister did look _exactly _like their mother. But unlike Lilianna, he couldn't share who he was with his family member. Not yet.

Quickly taking in the unusual scene before her, the woman known as Miss Parker to most stepped up to Lilianna and Christian. "I don't know what's going on here and I don't really care, but have either of you seen this man?"

She held up a picture of Jarod, and the couple spared a glance at each other.

"He kept going," Christian replied gruffly, jerking a thumb further down the alley.

Miss Parker sighed and holstered her weapon. The two men with her were staring at the man attached to the ladder. None of the three of them were staring too oddly at Lilianna or Christian, so Lilianna knew the Witchblade was cloaking itself from them.

"What's with him?" Miss Parker asked, indicating the rapist.

Christian's head was bent, but Lilianna could tell he was staring at his sister. _So close and yet so far,_ Lilianna couldn't help but think. She took the girl from Christian's arms and handed her to a startled Miss Parker.

"He tried to kidnap this girl. We stopped him. He's wanted by the FBI. If you call the police I'm sure they'll take him and the girl off your hands, Miss Parker."

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Miss Parker turned and handed the child to Broots, who instinctively smiled and made reassuring noises. He was a good father. Sydney smiled fondly down at the little girl, who for her part seemed to be doing rather well considering she was being handed around like a sack of potatoes.

"Wait a minute, I didn't tell you my name..." Miss Parker spun around but the man and woman who had handed her the child were gone.

The Voices in her head started murmuring to her but Miss Parker ignored them after figuring out part of what they had said.

"What is it, Parker?" Sydney asked.

Miss Parker continued to stare down the alley for a minute. "I think my mother was wrong about the Inner Voice, Syd. I think it can be _wrong_, too."

"Why, what did it tell you?"

"Something about that man being my brother."

Sydney took on a bemused expression. "That wasn't Lyle or Ethan."

"No," Miss Parker sighed. "It _cannot_ be possible that my mother had _another_ son no one knew about, can it?"

"I don't know, Parker. I'm beginning to think that nothing is impossible where the Centre is concerned."

Elaine Elizabeth Parker took out her cell phone and placed a call to the police, not knowing that the second of her three brothers stood on a nearby rooftop, watching her. His wife, Jarod's niece, was standing with him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

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**100 miles outside  
Mexico City, Mexico  
Monday, August 13, 2001  
afternoon**

Susanna watched idly through the sight on the high-powered sniper rifle her contact from the Order of Taraka had given her yesterday. She momentarily considered picking off the estate's guards one by one just to enjoy the mayhem that would result, but thought better of it. Her target's car wouldn't pull into the gate if anything appeared to be amiss.

On her right wrist, the Witchblade was burning her. She pulled her attention away from the scene in front of her and glared at the bracelet. Concentrating, she was able to get it to stop hurting her long enough to realize it was warning her about events in New York. Susanna paled.

Her mother knew more than she had when Susanna had left the city, and Ian and Lilianna were in imminent danger from her father. The Blade wanted to be there, to be able to help the True Wielders. Susanna was of a like mind, but she had a job to finish.

_If you stop fighting me,_ she thought, knowing the Witchblade would pick up on it, _we can get this done sooner and head back there_.

The metal of the Witchblade bracelet tightened on her wrist momentarily, punishing her for her insolence, before it eased. The Blade would not be patient, but it would wait until her assignment was done.

_False Wielder!_ The Voices hissed before falling silent.

Susanna sighed. She was a false Wielder, despite the fact that she was just as much Sara's daughter as Lilianna. And the Witchblade liked to remind her of that fact anytime it was unhappy with her, which had seemed to be more and more often lately. Susanna nearly cursed when her cell phone began vibrating in her pocket. She had been expecting this call half an hour ago, and she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Doe," she answered softly when she had lifted the device to her ear.

"Report," a male voice on the other end commanded.

"Malcolm," Susanna sighed, glad it was him and not one of the higher ups. "No, the job isn't finished yet."

"We are aware of that, Doe. The question is why."

"Because I was given shoddy intel. The guy had his son in the car with him this morning."

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line.

"The Order knew when they recruited me what my conditions were. I am ruthless, and I am one of the best at what we do, but I _do not_ kill innocent children."

Malcolm grunted his assent.

"About half an hour ago I went down and did my own reconnaissance. The target will be back from dropping off the kid soon. I will complete my assignment as soon as possible."

"Very well."

Malcolm disconnected their call and Susanna slipped her headset back into her pocket. She stiffened when one of the estate's guards headed into the tree line in her general direction, but she relaxed again when she realized he was just relieving himself. Forty minutes and no big distractions later, Susanna's ears picked up the sound of the approaching luxury vehicle.

Susanna pulled out the small transmitter she had prepared the night before and waited for the car to be in good firing range. It had been ridiculously easy to break into the estate garage without detection and plant the bomb on the target's car. Just inside the gate was the perfect spot. It was where she had planned to blow it up this morning, but the seven year old who had climbed into the vehicle had stopped her.

The Witchblade had abandoned Sara in Susanna's timeline when Sara had tried to kill Susanna, then an innocent child. That, added to her own fascination with children due to her "cousins" at Manticore, had led her to the one main rule she never went against when it came to assassinations. She didn't kill innocents under a certain age. She didn't like killing innocent adults either, but if it were the only way to get to the "bad guy," she would do it.

Like now. Not all of the underlings of the drug lord and flesh peddler she was about to kill were evil, but they would be taken care of in order to get to the target. It was part of the job, and she had long since accepted it. Susanna had been going after self-appointed hits since she was thirteen, and she had been a member of the Order of Taraka, an elite assassin's guild, even before coming to this timeline at the age of eighteen.

Luckily, they had again recruited her in this time stream and she'd had to dip into Vorschlag funds only occasionally to keep herself fed, clothed, sheltered and armed. She had taken only tiny amounts here and there as Ian had taught her when she was young. Even he would dismiss the amounts as the inevitable losses in the running of such a big company. Of course, now that he and Lilianna were trying to break free, she didn't think he'd care either way if she wiped Vorschlag clean. But despite the things he had done to others, Susanna had nothing against her father, and she wouldn't do something like that to him. Money and his little games of power were all he had.

The target's car reached just inside the gate and Susanna pressed the button on the transmitter. Only a few seconds later, an explosion roared, and the car was momentarily lifted off the ground. A body on fire, there was no way to tell if it was the target or someone else, stumbled from the backseat, an inhuman sound coming from his throat for only the length of time it took Susanna to lift the rifle and aim it. The driver had survived as well, and Susanna meticulously picked him off, as well as the four guards closest to the car.

By the time the remaining men figured out which direction the shots had originated from, Susanna was long gone.


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note:** _Italics _signify thought or emphasis.

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**Nottingham's Loft  
New York, NY  
Monday, August 13, 2001  
Late evening**

The small indicator light on Lilianna's cell phone was blinking red when they got home. She had a message. She ignored it at first, helping Christian clean and put away the various weapons they had used earlier in the day. Lilianna was also still mulling over the fact that they had run into Jarod and Elaine. She had been ecstatic when the Witchblade had shown Jarod what he had been to her, but now that it was over, she couldn't help but worry about the ramifications.

Knowing that he and Elaine ended up together, would Jarod trust her too soon, before Elaine realized her own feelings? Would Jarod risk exposure by visiting Sara? Would he try even harder to bring down the Centre and end up getting himself killed, or worse: captured? Would he go up against Irons?

There were too many scenarios that could go horribly wrong, and she wished she had scheduled the meeting for much sooner than a month away. And what if she had been forced to return to the future by then? An arm wound around her waist and Lilianna leaned back against her husband. Christian whispered comforting words into her ear through the fall of her hair, giving small, reassuring squeezes to punctuate his words.

Lilianna turned in the circle of his arms and nuzzled into him. He, too, was worried about a family member. In a way, it had to be worse for him since he couldn't let Elaine know who he was yet. Lilianna had grown up knowing she had family out there somewhere, but he had only recently learned about his, and he had yet to be able to celebrate anyone but his mother, who was not even part of the living world.

They stayed wrapped around each other for a while, drawing strength and love from each other's presence. Anyone seeing them in moments like that would never have believed that each was capable of killing with a simple flick of the wrist.

After several minutes of mutual comfort, Lilianna pulled back and smiled up at Christian. "The twins would really like hamburgers and salads for dinner tonight."

He grinned at her, eyebrows raised in mock surprise, "Oh, the _twins_ would, huh?"

"Mm-hm," she murmured as he kissed her softly. "You want to make dinner while I see what my mother wanted?"

"How do you know it isn't Gabriel who left you a message, did the Blade tell you?"

Lilianna shrugged, "No, I just think until things settle down a bit, Gabriel will be too worried to risk calling me."

Christian nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Alright, I'll cook dinner, you take care of your phone message."

He moved away from her and for a moment she wanted to call him back, for them to be able to pretend their world consisted only of the two of them, that they didn't have a long-lived megalomaniac, a Witchblade Wielder, an FBI agent and a demon god to worry about. But they wouldn't be who they were and where they were if the circumstances of their lives had been easier. She wouldn't trade loving him for anything. And she knew he felt the same way.

Lilianna picked up her cell phone and dialed the number to retrieve her voicemail. She had two. Both from her mother.

"Why didn't you tell me Irons was having you followed? And why is it necessary for Gabriel to suddenly be all the way across the country? Who could you possibly know and trust enough to send him to Los Angeles with? Lilianna, we have to talk about this."

The second was much shorter. And angrier.

"Did you know your father was an _FBI agent_?"

Lilianna grimaced and considered putting off calling Sara back. But Lilianna knew she and Christian's other activities from the day would spark a reaction from Irons and it was only a matter of time before they weren't able to do ordinary, everyday things like make apologetic phone calls. So she took a deep breath and dialed her mother's number, sitting down on the couch as the phone rang once, twice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom," Lilianna said softly.

She heard Sara sigh, a sound between relief and frustration. Lilianna wasn't sure she could stand to wait while her mother decided what to ask first, so she jumped right in.

"Yes, I know Dad is in the FBI, I thought you did too, which is why I didn't tell you. Gabriel is safe; you don't need to worry about him or the person I sent him away with. Once I realized Irons was having me followed, I sent him away to protect him. In my timeline, he died protecting you." _Not to mention in the two other timelines I now have knowledge of._

"And why didn't you tell me about Irons following you? I have a right to know when my daughter is in danger, Lilianna."

Lilianna sighed. "I haven't stopped being in danger for one moment in my entire life, Mom. And I was afraid that once you knew about Irons following me, you'd want to do something about it..."

"Damn straight!"

"Mom," Lilianna cut back in. "Being an FBI agent is everything to Dad."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"If Dad knew about Irons, he'd want to do something, too, and he'd lose his job at the very least. But even if you didn't tell him, and I really wish you would, his job and life could be on the line because of his involvement with you if _you_ did something rash."

Sara was silent for a few seconds before answering, "So you just want me to act as if nothing has happened?"

"It's the only thing you can do right now without making things worse for _someone_ in the end."

"Lilianna, I don't like feeling helpless."

"I know, Mom, and I'm sorry. But I can promise you it won't be for too much longer."

Sara sighed again. "I'd ask you what you mean by that, but your father is coming up the stairs and I have to pull myself together before he comes in."

"Okay, Mom. Bye."

"Bye, kiddo."

Lilianna stared at the cell phone for a few minutes. She hadn't told Sara about Jarod. And she wanted more than anything to beg and plead until Sara capitulated and told Jake about the Witchblade and about, well, _her_. But then the smell of food and the growl of her stomach dragged her from her contemplations. She could worry later. Right now, the twins really _were_ hungry, and so was she.

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**Author's Note:** Sorry this chapter is a little short, but it's a transitional chapter.


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought, emphasis or vision.

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**New York, NY  
Tuesday, August 14, 2001  
morning**

Christian and Lilianna were eating breakfast when the phone rang. Christian moved to pick it up, Lilianna watching him for any sign of trouble. It was only a matter of time before Irons realized it was them killing off his most ruthless underlings, and she doubted Irons would make his first move over the telephone, but you could never be sure with that man.

"Nottingham," Christian said into the phone.

Catherine appeared near Lilianna, looking excited. Lilianna smiled at the other woman and waited for her husband to respond to whatever it was the caller had to say.

"No, I wasn't expecting a package. Who is it from?"

The Witchblade hummed on Lilianna's finger and she gasped when Christian spoke again.

"The Dagan Corporation?"

Christian noticed Lilianna nodding vigorously and told the garage attendant to go ahead and bring it up to him. He hung up the phone and smiled at the ghost of his mother before turning to his wife.

"You want to tell me who from the Dagan Corporation would be sending us something?"

"Mara," Lilianna answered. "Dagan was her father's name, and it's the surname most of her siblings use when they need one. The Corporation was started to keep track of as much of the family as possible while making sure they were all provided for."

Christian nodded slowly. "I remember a few years ago Irons tried to buy into their company but they refused him."

Catherine jumped in, "The Centre tried to get in for him years ago, but they were rejected as well. Through research they discovered that The Dagan Corporation very rarely allows outside investors."

"It only makes sense when you think about the secrecy a family of Immortals would have to live under," Lilianna murmured.

Christian moved to the elevator. The doors slid open a few seconds later and the man inside handed Christian an envelope before the doors slid shut again, taking the parking garage security man back down to his station. Christian brought the envelope to Lilianna.

"Not that I'm not thrilled that you're here, Mom, but why _are_ you here?" he asked as Lilianna opened the envelope.

Catherine simply smiled enigmatically. Lilianna gasped as she read the top page of the documents that had been in the package from Mara. Too overcome to speak, Lilianna waved the small stack of papers in Christian's direction. He gently took them from her and read the letter on top of the stack.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Nottingham,_

_Lady Mara Dagan, on behalf of Mr. Gabriel Bowman, has asked us to procure the enclosed documents. Mr. Bowman was of the opinion that though your spiritual bonding has already taken place, you may desire to be legally wed. In the event that Mr. Bowman was right, birth certificates with your real names (but a false year for Mrs. Nottingham, of course), Social Security cards and blood test results have been provided. We took the liberty of scheduling a ceremony with the Justice of the Peace at City Hall at noon today due to the unusual circumstances and time restraints you find yourselves under._

_Should you choose not to keep the appointment, notify our Events Department (the VP's number can be found below) and we will cancel and make sure there is no record of the appointment. If you do attend, witnesses from the Corporation will be on hand to stand in for Lady Mara and Mr. Bowman. Our best wishes on your lives together._

_Mr. Nottingham, Lady Mara informed the Corporation that you may be leaving the employ of Mr. Kenneth Irons in the near future. Should you so desire, we would be happy to move your bank accounts and other personal business to our Corporation, where Mr. Irons holds no sway. Contact us with any needs you may have._

_Sincerely,_

_Sonya Beckett  
Records Department VP  
The Dagan Corporation_

"I can't believe..." Christian started but was interrupted by the elevator.

Lilianna and Christian both tensed as they waited for who was in the elevator to be revealed. Susanna stepped into the loft with a small smile on her face, a duffel bag in one hand. She set the duffel bag down just inside the doors. Lilianna gasped again and moved forward to hug her sister. Susanna allowed the embrace for several seconds, staring over Lilianna's shoulder at Christian.

Moving away from Lilianna, Susanna approached Christian. "Hello, Ian."

"Susanna," Christian greeted softly, warmth in his eyes, his whole being.

The expression was mirrored in Susanna's face and body, and Lilianna suddenly realized that the blank mask her sister usually wore might not have come from mimicking Irons. Christian, too, regularly hid his emotions, and he had raised Susanna much longer than Irons had been able to.

With one last tiny smile in Christian's direction, Susanna turned back to her sister, "While I was on my job, the Blade told me you were in danger. I was already on my way back when the Witchblade let me know you were getting married today. Is... is Mother going to be there?"

Lilianna's decision and answer were instantaneous, "No, she refuses to tell my father about me. I'd only want her there if they both were. We'd like it if you would come. You could be my maid of honor."

Susanna smiled a bit bigger than before, "I was hoping you'd ask."

Lilianna smiled and Christian turned toward his mother.

"Is that why you're here, Mom?"

"I wanted to see my baby boy get married," Catherine confirmed, lifting one hand before dropping it back down to her side.

"At least someone's parent can be there," Susanna said lightly.

Catherine smiled softly at the blonde girl. Lilianna was frowning thoughtfully.

"Could you ask the PTB for Jonathan to be there as well?"

Christian stiffened. It was the first time they had really discussed his father out loud.

But Catherine was frowning sadly, "I already asked, THEY said it was impossible."

Susanna twitched. "Um, that's because he isn't dead."

"_What_?" all three of the others asked.

"He didn't die in the car crash, he was kept in the Centre for twenty years before he escaped. They told him Catherine had died in childbirth and that the baby had died as well."

"Where is he now?" Christian choked out.

"I don't know," Susanna shrugged. "We were never able to find him. Not even a clue. It was like once he left the Centre, he disappeared."

Lilianna wrapped her arms around Christian and sent a pale Catherine a comforting look.

"I just... thought... because I was a Guardian. I thought they wouldn't let me... see him." Catherine stuttered.

"When all of this is done, we'll find him. We'll get everyone together again, and we'll destroy that place," Lilianna said with quiet conviction.

Susanna's face was unreadable again, but she added, "I'll help however I can."

Bast sat atop the refrigerator, watching the humans and their ghostly companion. Her fur stood on end as she looked at Susanna, but for the sake of her keepers, she stayed silent and hid her animosity.

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Hours later, Lilianna and Christian were reciting the traditional wedding vows, minus the word 'obey', in front of the city of New York's Justice of the Peace. The man and woman from the Dagan Corporation stayed through the ceremony, first so there would be enough witnesses, and secondly to sign the marriage certificate since legally Susanna couldn't.

Lilianna and Christian wore the clothes they had worn to the dinner with Irons. Susanna wore a linen pants suit that made her look slightly older, especially with her hair up in a sleek French twist. Catherine, of course, was still in the pale blue dress that matched her eyes so well. When the ceremony was over, Catherine blew Christian and Lilianna a kiss and disappeared, happy tears in her eyes. The new Mr. and Mrs. Nottingham thanked the witnesses from the Dagan Corporation and promised to contact the company if there was anything they needed.

After they left City Hall, Susanna treated her sister and her brother-in-law to a late lunch in a small, out of the way restaurant that never the less had wonderful food. While they ate, they decided that the best plan was for Susanna to come back and see Christian the day after Lilianna was supposed to go back to her own time. If that still happened, Christian and Susanna would use the Eye of Kronos to move forward in time to where Lilianna was. From there, they would try to get back to this time so they could reunite their families.

Susanna left them in front of the restaurant. She had already risked a lot by spending as much time as she had with them.

Lilianna and Christian drove home, changed into jeans and sweat shirts, and walked to the park. They found a bench to sit on where they could watch children playing, their arms wrapped around each other. Each of them wondered what their children would be like and how they would grow up.

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**Vorschlag Building  
New York, NY  
Tuesday, August 14, 2001  
afternoon**

Two hours after Lilianna Elizabeth McCartey and Christian Jonathan Nottingham had tied the knot, a contact Kenneth Irons had in City Hall called to report the nuptials. Irons thanked the woman and hung up the phone. He pulled his pocket watch out and stared at it for a few minutes, leaning back in his chair.

Sighing, he tucked the watch back into its pocket and pressed a button on his desk console that would summon the Lieutenant. When the other man came in, Irons stood and approached him. The Lieutenant wasn't as deferential as Nottingham; he had been his own man too long to be easily trained in that direction without cutting down on his inherent ruthlessness.

Light blue eyes met murky hazel and Irons said simply, "Tomorrow."

Malicious glee lit the eyes of the younger man.


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought, emphasis or vision.

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**Jake and Sara's Apartment  
New York, NY  
Wednesday, August 15, 2001  
morning**

"Sara, phone for you," Jake said, handing the receiver to her as she walked into the kitchen. "It's Angel."

"Thanks, Jake." She said flatly.

Sara lifted the phone to her ear and greeted her sister.

Jake walked through the apartment to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Hopefully Sara would think he was getting ready for work. She had been acting strangely for awhile, and for the past two days she had been looking at him like she was trying to figure something out. He didn't like spying on her, but if she was hiding something important, it could put his assignment at risk. And to the best of his knowledge, all of this odd behavior had started around the same time her sister had shown up. Jake carefully eased the phone extension from its cradle and lifted it to his ear, covering the mouthpiece.

"... please, Mom, this might be our last chance."

That was definitely Angel's voice, but who was 'Mom'? Did they have the call on three-way? Sara had told him that Angel didn't know where their other family members were. Had she lied to him?

"Lilianna, I told you before that I wasn't ready to tell your father everything. Jake just wouldn't understand; he's very much a skeptic," Sara's voice answered. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"Please, Mom?" 'Angel' tried again before sighing in resignation. "Fine, then will _you_ at least meet us? There's something else we need to talk to you about, and I don't know how much time we have before Irons comes after us."

He could _not_ have heard any of that right. Angel's name was really Lilianna? How could Sara be her mother? More importantly, how could _he_ possibly be her father? And why would Irons be after her? Jake's head spun, and he sank down to sit on the floor, still careful not to let Sara know he was listening in.

Sara capitulated, "Fine, I'll meet you in half an hour. I still wish you'd let me go after Irons myself."

"No, Mom," Lilianna said firmly. "We'll see you in a little bit."

"Okay," Sara sighed. "Just be careful, Lilianna. Don't forget that Nottingham would be hard pressed to protect you from Irons, no matter how much he loves you."

"I know, Mom. Bye."

Jake waited until he was sure Sara had hung up the phone before replacing the phone he was listening in on. The only possible explanation he could think of was that 'Angel,' or 'Lilianna' or whoever she was, was completely off her rocker and Sara was for some reason playing along with her delusions.

But why? Was Sara's sister (or daughter as the story went) a danger to herself or others? Was Nottingham the only one who could keep her sane? And whatever the problem was, why wasn't Sara confiding in _him_? They were going to be parents; he was thinking of asking her to marry him. But could he really do that if she lied to him so easily and frequently? Jake had too many questions, and he knew from past experience that Sara was highly unlikely to answer any of them.

Hearing Sara walking down the hall, Jake stood and threw a sweater on over his clothes to hide the fact that he hadn't changed. Sara opened the door and smiled distractedly at him.

"Jake, do you think you could go ahead without me? There's something I need to check on. Just tell the Captain I'm following a lead."

"Sure, Sara."

As soon as he was certain Sara had left, Jake did place a call to the precinct, but he added himself to the 'following a lead' lie. He was going to get to the bottom of things and help Sara, even if she hadn't asked. Whatever else was going on, the involvement of Irons and Nottingham guaranteed a strong element of danger. Jake would never forgive himself, or Sara, if something happened to their child.

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"Do you think she'll listen?" Christian asked his wife, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that the wind had been playing with.

Lilianna smiled and leaned into the touch of his hand, but there was a sadness in her eyes. "I doubt it."

They were waiting for Sara to show up to try to convince her to tell Jake everything before it didn't matter anymore. They had only been there a couple minutes, not wanting to stay in one place too long when Irons could well be after them already. A business center with an open courtyard halfway across the city from Vorschlag was their chosen rendezvous point.

"Will you tell him yourself if she doesn't?"

"No," Lilianna said softly. "Mom was right. Dad is a skeptic, and I'd rather not get locked up in a nut house."

Christian grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. "I'd break you out."

Lilianna laughed.

But the happy sound was cut short by the Witchblade trying to tell her three urgent things at once. Her mother had just pulled up; her father had followed her mother after listening in to their phone conversation; and all of them were in immidiate danger. Christian growled and Lilianna knew his own Witchblade had told him the same things.

Their time was up.

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Sara had just started walking toward Lilianna and Nottingham when the Witchblade warmed her wrist in warning. Looking ahead of her, she saw Lilianna and Nottingham both tense. Sara glanced around, shocked to see Jake walking a couple dozen feet behind her. What was he doing here?

There were a few people walking toward the doors of the business center, but Sara didn't see anyone that she would consider a threat. Sara motioned for Jake to join her, wanting to keep him close in case she needed to protect him.

She flinched when Lilianna yelled, "Duck!"

Christian did as Lilianna had said, and a window behind him shattered. Was someone using a silencer? Sara hadn't heard a thing. Jake swore as he caught up with her, his service weapon drawn and his eyes sweeping the area. The civilians had hit the ground when Lilianna had yelled. Luckily, they were all smart enough to stay down.

Suddenly, the courtyard was swarming with armed men, most of them with their weapons trained on Nottingham and Lilianna, though some of them were aiming at Sara and Jake. And then Sara realized why she hadn't heard a shot fired. Several of the men were armed with tranquilizer guns. They wanted Lilianna and Nottingham alive.

As Sara watched in shock, Lilianna activated her Witchblade armor, several tranquilizer darts leaving their guns with a soft "poof" before pinging off her armor. But Lilianna didn't have full-body armor, and a few of the tranq darts hit their intended target. She sank to the ground still in Witchblade armor, Nottingham easing her fall so she didn't injure herself.

For a second, Sara could have sworn she heard Nottingham roar, and then _he_ was in Witchblade armor. His had full body coverage, and she thought he might have a chance of keeping Lilianna and himself out of harm's way.

"Everyone freeze," Sara finally found her voice to shout, taking out her gun and badge. "NYPD."

One of the men with an automatic weapon actually laughed at her, and Sara realized how ridiculously outnumbered she was. Even if the Witchblade activated, which it hadn't done yet, she didn't know if she could fight her way through all of them without an innocent getting hurt.

Desperate to try and save her daughter, Sara ordered Jake, "Take out your badge!"

"Sara, they didn't react to yours, I don't think one more..."

"Your _real_ badge!" Sara snapped.

Jake looked like someone had punched him for a second, but he did as she said.

"FBI!" Jake yelled, taking out a badge that was a bit more impressive then his New York City detective's shield.

A limo rolled up behind them and Sara's shoulders slumped. Now there was no hope.

"Nottingham," Irons called as he climbed from the back.

The assassin remained crouched over Lilianna's body protectively, pointing a rather large broadsword at the nearest assailant. But his eyes responded to his master's call.

"Let them knock you out, or I can't promise Lilianna will make it through this alive."

Nottingham seemed to crumple at Irons' threat, and one of the armed men shot him with a tranq dart. He went down next to Lilianna, obviously taking care not to land on top of her. The sword disappeared, as did the armor.

Sara turned to glare at Irons. The white-haired man seemed to have already found Nottingham's replacement. A man that was the very picture of 'average' stood behind the billionaire, dressed in army fatigues.

Irons smirked at her as Nottingham and Lilianna were quickly loaded onto a van. "Don't worry, Sara, your daughter will be in good hands for the rest of her life." Sara made a sound of rage and Irons continued, "For however long that is."

Sara started toward him, but one of his henchman turned a gun in Jake's direction and fired. The Witchblade finally sprang to life and Sara dove at Jake, pushing him to the ground as the bullet meant to kill him ricocheted off the gauntlet.

When she made a move to get up, another of the men fired a warning shot just over her head. To keep herself, her unborn child and Jake safe, she'd have to let her daughter be taken away. It didn't mean she wouldn't do everything in her power to get Lilianna back.

Irons climbed back in his limo and the assailants began to disperse, the van with the two other Wielders, however temporary Nottingham's control of the ancient weapon had been, long gone.

When she was sure it was safe, Sara rolled off of Jake and stood, the Witchblade deactivating into bracelet form. Sara looked down at Jake. He was staring at the Witchblade, his eyes popping out of his face and slightly glazed. She offered him a hand up, but he ignored it.

"Sara, what the _hell_ is going on?" Jake demanded.


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought or emphasis.

**_Violence Warning_**: You've been warned!

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"Don't say anything," Sara snapped, indicating the approaching police vehicles.

Sara moved away from Jake and approached the witnesses. In a way, she was ecstatic that she would finally have proof to put Irons away, but she couldn't let the witnesses tell all they knew yet.

The White Bulls would be sure to protect their benefactor the moment they realized Sara was going after him, and Irons wouldn't go down without taking Nottingham and Lilianna with him. And if he thought leaving the country would help maintain power and control, Sara knew Irons would do that, too. Sara couldn't allow any of those possibilities.

There were eight witnesses, and Sara wasn't sure whether or not it had anything to do with the Witchblade's influence, but they all quickly agreed to claim they feared for their lives and were unwilling at this time to identify the kidnapper. The fact that Kenneth Irons was well known as a ruthless and powerful businessman probably made it true for most of them.

All but one of them agreed to later come forward if Sara could promise protection. Now all she had to worry about was Jake saying something. She made it back to his side just as the arriving law enforcement began departing their vehicles.

He opened his mouth, but Sara held up one hand in a not-right-now-it's-my-turn gesture. Jake scowled but closed his mouth.

"I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know when this is over," Sara said quickly, "but we can't give any details about what happened. I have to save Lily and Nottingham myself."

"Two conditions," Jake responded.

Sara's eyebrows rose.

"First, you have to tell me everything _before_ you go after Irons."

"And second?"

"You have to let me help you."

Sara frowned, but Jake added, "I _will_ tell them everything I saw Sara; I'm sick of being left out."

"Fine," Sara answered tiredly. "But not a word about Irons or the identity of the kidnappees."

Jake nodded and the partners squared their shoulders in preparation for dealing with their fellow law enforcement agents. An hour later they were at the precinct being grilled by Dante, Siri and the Special Crimes Captain. Not only was what had happened a kidnapping, but some heavy firepower had been used, making it an obviously organized event. Sara and Jake were questioned, threatened and cajoled, but they stuck to the story of needing to protect their witnesses from the party behind the attack.

It was four and a half hours after the time Sara had originally been scheduled to meet Lilianna and Nottingham when Jake and Sara were finally let out of the precinct, both of them on suspension without pay for two days due to their lack of cooperation. Thankfully, not a single one of the witnesses had mentioned anything about Jake's FBI badge, so his cover hadn't been blown.

Although she was beyond anxious to go after Irons and get her daughter back, Sara allowed Jake to drive her back to their apartment so they could have their discussion.

"Well?" he asked when they had been inside for less than a minute.

Not having the time or the patience to beat around the bush, Sara activated the Witchblade to full form, gauntlet and Blade. Jake's eyes threatened to fall out and roll across the floor, and he reached out hesitantly to touch the weapon.

"This is the Witchblade," Sara began. "It is an ancient, sentient weapon that chooses a Wielder when it is needed. My grandmother was also a Wielder during World War II, and in the future my daughter will be. Lilianna is that daughter, _our_ daughter. Apparently things went to hell in a hand basket, and Lilianna came back through time to stop it."

Jake's eyes fell to Sara's abdomen and he choked out, "Angel… Lilianna, whoever she is, she's the baby inside you right now?"

Sara nodded and continued. "Irons is older than he looks and his main obsession in life is regaining control of the Witchblade. He wore it once a long time ago and it rejected him."

"Why?"

"It's only supposed to work for women of a certain bloodline."

"Then what was it that Nottingham had?"

Sara sighed, "That's why I said 'supposed to'. I don't know how he Wielded it, maybe because he loves Lilianna and it knows that."

"Our daughter is not going to be with an assassin," Jake huffed.

Though she was glad, and shocked, that Jake was taking all of this so well, Sara couldn't help but snap back, "_Our daughter_ is an assassin too. Neither one of them had a choice, it was how they were raised."

Jake ran a hand through his hair, the dark blonde strands going every which way – and not in the artful disaaray it took Jake half an hour every morning to concoct. "Why would we raise her to be an assassin? Is the future _that_ bad?"

"We didn't raise her. Irons killed you and took her from me. Years later I died trying to free her," Sara said bluntly.

Jake's eyes closed and he let out a heavy breath. When he looked up at her again, his eyes held a dazed expression.

"If I hadn't seen that thing…"

"I know, Jake."

"And even though I did, I still…"

"I know, Jake," Sara cut him off again. She didn't have time to deal with him going into shock and denial. "If you're going to help me get our daughter back, we need to go now."

Jake nodded and followed when Sara left the apartment.

He asked only one more question as they reached the car, "Is that thing how you knew I was a Federal agent?"

Sara nodded. She couldn't truly let herself think about that too much, it still hurt to know that even though Jake loved her, he might never have told her what he was really doing in New York. He still might not.

They went to Irons' home first since Sara figured the billionaire would want privacy for whatever he planned to do to Lilianna and Nottingham. They wasted an hour driving out to his mansion and then back downtown.

The servants had not stopped Sara and Jake from entering the mansion, and it had only taken a few minutes, thanks to the Witchblade, for Sara to be sure Irons and his captives weren't there. That left the Vorschlag building to check before she'd have to start digging into Irons' other holdings.

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To Lilianna's surprise, she woke to find herself still in Witchblade armor. She had been so sure that Irons would find some way, even if he had to kill or maim her, to get it off. Unfortunately, there were neuro-cuffs around her wrists that prevented her from communicating with or controlling the Blade. She experimentally tried to move, finding that though she could move a couple feet in either direction, she was chained to the wall. Lilianna sat up and looked around the room.

The room was an enormous one with metal walls. There were rings and hooks in the walls and hanging from the ceiling, different ways to restrain or torture captives. Lilianna shivered. She was familiar with several of them, and she was sure her husband was intimately acquainted with each and every one. There were also drains in the floor and a hose against one wall, for when things got 'messy', she knew.

Christian was in one of the far corners of the room, still unconscious. Lilianna's heart clenched when she saw that his Witchblade ring was gone, his left hand now bare.

Would Irons be able to control a male Wielder's Blade?

Looking at her Witchblade armor again, Lilianna noticed that it had changed slightly again, the chain mail skirt heavier though it remained only long enough to cover halfway down her thighs. The metal plating that encased her hips had also changed, covering more than usual, protecting her up past her belly button a few inches.

_The babies_, she realized. The Witchblade was trying to protect them from whatever it was Irons was going to do to her. She could only pray that it would work.

It was only moments later that Irons walked into the room, a decidedly superior smirk on his face. Lilianna would have given anything to be able to permanently wipe that look off his face, but in the next second she remembered Susanna.

Susanna who had done nothing but help Lilianna and Christian despite her history with Sara. Susanna who loved her father and didn't want him to be killed.

Lilianna sighed quietly. She had no idea how they were going to get out of this without that happening. Even if she and Christian were able to somehow escape Irons' clutches, how would they ever talk Sara out of inflicting severe bodily harm to Irons?

"Good to see you're awake," Irons said coldly. "I wasn't sure how long you'd be out considering how many traquilizers you were hit with."

Lilianna glared at Irons, stopping just short of sticking her tongue out at him. There was something about the billionaire that always made her feel like a petulant child.

He continued as if he hadn't noticed her look of hatred. "Both you and Nottingham will be greater weapons for me than he ever could have been alone, and Sara will soon follow."

Lilianna snorted and this time Irons didn't ignore her. He walked right up to her and punched her in the jaw, hard. Lilianna tasted blood and snarled at him. Which of course just made him hit her again, this time with his open palm to her cheek. Lilianna willed herself not to react.

"Better," Irons sneered.

A muffled groan was heard from across the room and Irons straightened, smiling coldly. Lilianna's eyes moved to where Christian was moving, standing up and hanging his head when he realized his Witchblade was gone. It suddenly became much harder to breathe when Lilianna realized that he would take the brunt of the punishment. Christian was the one to go against his training; she had never obeyed hers in the first place, though Irons shouldn't actually know that.

Christian didn't even flinch when Irons struck him. Irons pulled back his arm to deliver another blow when Lilianna heard the ringing of a cell phone. Irons stepped away from Christian and pulled the phone out of his pocket.

"Do you have the book yet?" he barked into the device.

He listened for several seconds and then pulled the phone away from his ear to glare at Christian.

"Why isn't the elevator in your building working, why is there a jaguar with a gold collar standing on your balcony and why the bloody hell is there a force field stopping my men from entering your loft?"

Lilianna bit her lip to hold back a laugh. _Not an ordinary cat indeed_.

"My best guess would be that Bast is protecting what's mine and Lilianna's," Christian answered tightly.

"Bast?" Irons echoed, his eyes narrowing.

"Our cat," Lilianna answered.

Irons pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He turned his attention to Lilianna.

"And how did you manage to get a magical jungle cat into the building without anyone knowing?"

"I found her while tailing Lady Sara. She came home in my coat," Christian responded.

"In your..." Irons broke off and released a heavy breath through his nose. He lifted the phone back to his ear. "Shoot it."

Lilianna was unconcerned for Bast. If the cat had magic enough to erect a forcefield and change shape, it surely had nothing to fear from bullets. Instead, as Irons waited for word from his men, Lilianna met Christian's gaze across the room. With her eyes, she implored him to remember what she had promised him, that she wouldn't leave him, even if he couldn't leave Irons.

Catherine appeared next to her, a sad expression on her pale face. "He knows, dear. Stay strong for him, and he'll stay strong for you."

Lilianna nodded and moved her gaze back to Christian, smiling lovingly at him. He smiled back, and even from that distance Lilianna could feel that he had calmed somewhat. It had always surprised her how strongly they could sense what the other was feeling, but perhaps it was part of being married by the Blade. A marriage such as theirs hadn't happened with anyone else since the time of the Witchblade tribe. And she had no way to know how common it had been back then or what it had entailed. Perhaps she could ask Akantha the next time they spoke.

No matter what else happened, she would not leave him. The only exception to that was if they were still under Irons' thumb when the twins were born. She would leave just before they were born and come back when she knew they were safe. Even if she had to return to living under Irons' control to stay with her husband, Lilianna would not allow her children to be raised by him.

Her own life was with Christian, or it wasn't worth living. But her children would be free, no matter what.

Catherine disappeared. Lilianna was sure it was because the woman had no desire to see her son tortured.

"Fine," Irons said into the phone with deadly calm. "Just come back here then."

Casting a calculating look at Lilianna, Irons turned toward Christian. He couldn't lie.

"What have you learned from the book you took from the house?"

"Nothing," Christian replied honestly. Just so Irons would stop asking questions, he added, "We weren't able to decipher it."

At that, Irons did turn to Lilianna. "Your file says one of your areas of expertise is languages."

Not sure if he would take it out on her or on Christian if she lied and disappointed that Marcus had indeed told Irons about her before he died, Lilianna answered softly, "It is, but the text is not only written in another language, it must be in code, because it's just gibberish when you translate it straight into English."

"Then why keep it from me?"

"Catherine told us to."

Lilianna smiled when Irons paled.

"Catherine... Parker?" he asked.

"My mother prefers Jamison now that she's dead," Christian said. "Happily, she's no longer married to that monster who works for you."

"Enough," Irons barked. "Both of you will show me respect if I have to beat it into you. Once you are as obedient as you should be, you will give me all the answers I want."

Christian bowed his head, and Lilianna looked away so Irons wouldn't see her anger and defiance. Why make it any harder on any of them than he was about to?

"Stay there," he ordered Christian.

Irons left the room for a few minutes, coming back with a cart of familiar torture devices. Lilianna shrank into herself at the sight of the cat o' nine tails. Even though it had been more than a decade since he had used it on her, she could recall the ripping, burning pain as if it were moments ago.

She had to bite her tongue to stop from whimpering when he picked up the very thing she feared most. Lilianna's fear didn't lessen when Irons moved toward Christian instead of her. It was her fault the man she loved was about to be hurt.

Christian flinched slightly when the first lash hit, shredding his shirt. A single tear ran down Lilianna's face. Irons glanced back at her before turning back to Christian.

"Take off the shirt."

Lilianna felt sick when the material of the shirt tugged at the newly raw wounds Irons had just inflicted. But Christian simply tossed the shirt aside and returned to submissive position to await further blows.

"Move to the center of the room."

Christian head snapped up at the latest order, his eyes locking on Lilianna's. The knowledge that Irons wanted them to see every detail of each other's suffering flowed between them. The tears started flowing more freely down Lilianna's face when he was close enough for her to see the blood seeping from the angry wounds on his chest.

The next blow was a surprise one to his back, and Christian hissed and stumbled slightly, his eyes remaining locked on Lilianna's. She wiped the tears from her face and her eyes softened, trying to tell him without words that she was here and she wasn't leaving, no matter how much Irons tried to hurt them.

After six more strokes to his front, Christian hit his knees. His torso was covered in blood, and his eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Every time the multi-strand, razor-tipped weapon struck flesh, again on his back as it was the easiest to reach in his forward-leaning position, Christian had trouble catching his breath. His pain threshold had been breached some time ago.

Lilianna knew that the only reason he didn't cry out was because he was trying his hardest to stay strong for her. The occasional hiss or grunt was all he allowed to escape. But Lilianna could see it was only a matter of minutes before he passed out from the effort and the pain.

"Stop," she pled softly.

Irons heard her and stilled his hand. He moved to study Christian for a moment, an evil grin contorting his face. He moved to the cart and put the blood-splattered cat o' nine tails down. Instead he picked up what looked like a riding crop, only instead of a loop of leather at the end, there was a wicked looking blade.

He came close to her and commanded, "Stand up, back to the wall."

Lilianna did as she was told, wrapping her hands around the chains attached to her wrists to keep from reaching for Irons' throat. It was difficult not to when he crowded in close to her.

"I orginally planned for your mother's place to be by my side and in my bed." He lifted his empty left hand to cup her face. It took all Lilianna had not to spit in his face, especially at his next words. It was only the thought of what he'd do to Christian that stopped her. "Maybe that should be your honor instead."

"Never," she swore.

He smiled coldly. "I didn't think so."

He stepped back two paces and let his latest weapon fly. Lilianna cried as the cold metal ripped into her arm. The next three hits struck her legs, and tears of pain blinded her momentarily. She screamed when the steel bit into her face high on her cheek.

Irons whirled when a roar of rage sounded behind him. Lilianna blinked the tears from her eyes to stare in awe as Christian was engulfed in intense light. The light expanded and when it disappated, there was a huge, beautiful creature filling most of the room. He was long, probably just shy of one hundred feet including his tail, and tall enough for his wings to brush the ceiling two and a half floors above them. It was impossible to tell wingspan with his wings folded, but Lilianna was willing to bet it was over sixty feet. The Dragon's body, head and wings were black and his underbelly and eyes were moss green. Her husband's eyes.

"Christian," she breathed in wonder.

"Now you know why the Super Soldier project was renamed the Black Dragons," Irons said beside her. "They were named after him. It's only the second time he's transformed since he was born. I made him forget the first time. Do you really think a creature like that is worthy of your affection?"

Dragon-Christian's eyes were sad, and his great head lowered until it was almost touching the ground. How dare Irons make him doubt his own worth just because he was, at least in part, a mystical being?

"Oh, yes," she answered Irons. And because Dragon-Christian heard her and lifted his head proudly to look down on her, and thanks to Mara's knowledge, Lilianna added, "This explains the depth of our connection. It has nothing to do with the Witchblade; we were mated the first time we kissed in that club."

Irons made a sound of frustration and lashed out with the blade-tipped crop once more, striking her other arm. She flinched but didn't make any sound, too busy admiring her husband's second form.

The door opened and a man Lilianna had never seen before entered the room.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Irons asked.

"The two detectives have left the mansion and are on their way here, sir."

"Both of them?" Irons frowned.

"Yes, sir."

Irons sighed and returned his torture device to the cart. He headed for the door.

At the last second, he said, "Knock her out again. And prepare Nottingham to be restrained but mobile when he returns to himself."

"Yes, sir," the man Irons had called Lieutenant replied.

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Jake only a step behind her, Sara walked down the long, sterile hall to where Irons' secretary sat. The dark-haired woman lifted her head. She smiled professionally, the gesture not reaching her eyes, and opened her mouth.

Sara cocked an eyebrow and held up a hand, "He's expecting me, right?"

"That's right, Detective."

The woman went back to her typing. Sara and Jake walked into Irons' massive office. The white-haired man was facing one of his full-length windows, studying something in his hand.

"Where is she?" Sara asked without preamble.

She was sick of playing nice and being polite to the cold-hearted bastard. Irons turned slowly and studied her for a second. As always, his gaze lingered longest on the Witchblade. Sara yanked it off her wrist and held it out toward him.

"Give her to me and you can have it."

"And why would I do that?"

He looked bored, as usual, and Sara desperately wanted to grind his face into the expensive Oriental rug that covered a portion of the floor.

She kept her voice steady through sheer force of will, knowing that showing her anxiety would only place her at his mercy, "Because kidnapping is a felony and I have witnesses. Because we both know you want the Witchblade, and it's only ever made my life more difficult."

"Now, now, Sara," Irons mocked, "You and I both know that I cannot wield the Witchblade…"

"Only a woman from the chosen bloodline, blah, blah, blah. So you keep saying. But you also said there was only one Witchblade, and we both know she has one." Sara decided to play her trump card; she wanted her daughter back now, "And I saw Nottingham wield it."

Irons' eyes snapped at this and he stalked over to his desk.

Pressing an intercom button, he barked, "Bring them in."

Irons looked at Jake as if he were something stuck to his shoe.

"Why is he here?"

"Because _he_ is Lilianna's father, you pompous asshole." Jake bit off as he took a step forward, but Sara held out a blocking arm.

She didn't want to have to rescue him too, and as competent an FBI agent as he was, he had no mystical powers. He barely believed in them. And that was an exceedingly dangerous belief to have around Irons.

Irons simply smirked at Jake and then ignored him.

A minute later a hidden door opened and eight heavily armed men escorted Nottingham and Lilianna in. Lilianna was unconscious and in her version of full Witchblade armor. She was also chained, the chains held by four of the men. As they drew closer, Sara could see that her daughter was hurt. There was a trail of blood from one corner of her mouth and several wicked looking cuts on her arms, face and legs. Sara's blood boiled but she remained still and kept a calming hand on Jake's arm, not wanting any more harm to come to Lilianna.

Nottingham was strapped to a hand-truck type device that was used in movie scenes showing prison guards transporting "psychotic killers". The thing that surprised Sara was that he was wearing only a pair of pants. His head, torso and feet were bare, showing off his toned body, as well as the scars, and several new wounds, that crisscrossed almost all of his flesh. She had never before seen him without layers upon layers of clothes on. Where had the scars come from? Some of them looked very old.

"Holy shit," she heard Jake mutter.

She completely agreed.

"Release him," Irons ordered.

Two of the men undid the restraints on the trolley and Nottingham took a running step toward Lilianna.

"Nottingham, stop."

Nottingham jerked in place and turned to glare at Irons, hatred burning in his eyes and showing in every inch of his face. Irons calmly walked over to Nottingham and held up his hand. In the palm was a man's ring, a silver dragon that was very detailed and rich, though something seemed to be missing from it. Sara felt as if she had seen it somewhere before.

Irons asked, "What is this?"

"My ring," Nottingham ground out between clenched teeth.

"And where did you get it?"

Nottingham made a grab for the piece of jewelry, but Irons easily kept it out of reach and stepped back a few paces.

Nottingham's broad shoulders slumped further, "My wife gave it to me."

Sara's mouth dropped open. She knew he could not lie when Irons asked him a direct question. He was married and he was still messing around with her daughter? She'd kill him. But Irons had motioned for two of his men to train their machine guns on her, one pointing at her head and the other at her knees. A third kept Jake in his sights. Sara stayed in place. She'd kill Nottingham when the men let their guards down.

Irons continued, "So the two of you have had benefit of clergy, then?"

He gestured to Lilianna and Nottingham, and Sara frowned. She had obviously missed something.

Nottingham hissed, "Neither of us had the time to prepare for a church wedding and you know it. We were legally married at City Hall yesterday, but we were already bound for eternity in our hearts and souls."

Sara felt struck. Her daughter had gotten married without her there? Did she mean so little to Lilianna? Maria stood beside her and shook her head before disappearing. Sara acknowledged what the Blade told her: Lilianna didn't want Sara to be there unless Jake could be there, too. Sara's refusal to tell Jake the truth had prevented that; Lilianna didn't want Jake there unless it was as her father.

"Touching, I'm sure." Irons walked over to his throne-chair by the fireplace and sat. Looking much like a dictator lording over his subjects, his gaze swept them all before settling on Lilianna. "Wake Sleeping Beauty."

One of the guards shook Lilianna's shoulder, which was bare except for the tiniest strap of her Witchblade armor. She jerked away from the touch and lifted her head. Her gaze flew wildly about the room and Sara saw her sigh with relief when she spotted Nottingham. Then her gaze settled on Irons and her eyes blazed blue fire. She muttered something beneath her breath and the ring in Irons' clutches flew from his grasp and found it's way on to Nottingham's outstretched left hand. It settled on his ring finger and a translucent red, pulsing stone appeared clutched in the dragon's claws.

Nottingham's ring was a Witchblade! That was how he had wielded a Witchblade when Lilianna had still had hers on. But where had he gotten his own? Unless it was a piece of Lilianna's.

Irons' voice echoed in the room, "Well, well, the male Wielder, I never really believed..."

Irons stopped cold.

"Now what?" Sara demanded of Irons.

He smirked at her, "Now I kill your daughter and this treasonous, disloyal dog."


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note:** _Italics_ signify thought or emphasis.

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There were sounds of rage from Sara, Jake, Lilianna and Nottingham.

Irons laughed coldly, "On second thought, I think I'll have Nottingham kill his _beloved_ and then release him from my hold."

There were dry chuckles from a couple of Irons' armed men and Sara calculated what it would take to kill them and get to Irons before he could order Nottingham to take the one life that meant anything to him.

"No!" Lilianna screamed. "Kill me if you must, but don't make him do it. Please! It will destroy him. Think of all that you've done to raise him, I know you care about him at least a little." She paused for a moment and sent a loving look to Nottingham. Her voice dropped to a loud whisper, "Christian, none of this is your fault. No matter what you have to do, I forgive you."

Nottingham walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands.

He brought his lips down to just brush hers, saying against her mouth, "I love you, Lily."

A sob caught in Lilianna's throat and she sighed, "I love you, too."

They kissed tenderly, and for a minute Sara wondered why the scene was so touching. The Witchblade sent her a vision and she understood. It was only the second time they had actually said the words to each other. To anyone, in fact.

Her heart ached for the daughter she never got to raise and the man whose life had never really been his. When the pair pulled away from each other, there were tears on both of their faces and on hers. Sara glanced at Jake, but he just looked confused and angry.

Nottingham walked back to his original spot and waited. Every muscle in his body was tense. The Witchblade on Sara's wrist grew to a gauntlet and she stepped forward. The two men guarding her put their fingers on the triggers of their guns and she stopped and swore. If this version of the child now growing inside her had managed to come back through time and change things this much, maybe the next version would be able to stop this from happening at all. And if Lilianna couldn't, Sara herself would find a way to come back.

And there was no way in hell that she would let Irons anywhere near her child now that she knew what would happen. She would leave New York, the only home she had ever known, ever wanted, if that's what it took.

"Nottingham," everyone in the room tensed at the sound of Irons' voice, but he didn't continue. Instead, he stood up again and walked over to Lilianna. "Why was I never able to control you?"

She didn't answer, just glared at him. He stepped close, so that his face was mere inches from hers.

"You destroyed my property, turned Nottingham against me, and stole the thing that meant the most to me. Where is Elizabeth's body?"

Sara gasped and Lilianna smiled coldly at Irons.

"Great-Grandmother is where she should have been for a long time, resting peacefully. And no one can be turned against someone they were never willingly with."

Irons glared at her a minute longer, then turned away with a sound of disgust. He walked back to his chair, looking bored by the time he sat down.

"Nottingham, kill your wife."

"No."

For a minute no one registered the fact that Nottingham had quietly spoken. Then Irons snapped his head up to stare at the warrior. A second later Nottingham fell to his knees, holding his head in obvious pain. An inhuman scream tore from his throat and the occupants of the room other than Irons watched in abject horror as blood began to pour from his ears, nose and mouth. Lilianna cried out and struggled against the chains that bound her.

A surge of brilliant red light seemed to form around her as the tears continued to run down her face. The Witchblade armor became stronger-looking, bigger, sharper. The chains and cuffs that encircled her were cut clean through and she sliced her way through Irons' eight guards faster than the time it took for Irons to stand up. Lilianna grabbed his lapels, and a second later he flew across the room to crumple at the base of the far wall.

The Witchblade turned back to the normal armor and Lilianna fell to her knees next to Nottingham, who had ceased struggling and was now lying in a heap, still as death. Heart wrenching sobs filled the room as Lilianna lifted his head to her lap and lovingly smoothed his long, curly hair back. She wiped the blood from his face and softly kissed his still lips.

Sara walked over and knelt facing her daughter. Neither one of them noticed the blue vortex that opened across the room from Irons nor the four people that stepped through it. Jake did, but all he could do was stare at them, his mouth hanging open.

Sara reached with a trembling hand to feel Nottingham's neck for a pulse. For a minute she felt nothing and her shoulders slumped, then the faintest stirring under his skin caught her attention.

Hurriedly, she told Lilianna, "He's still alive! I'll call 911. Maybe they can save him."

"That won't be necessary," an unfamiliar male voice stated.

Sara and Lilianna lifted their heads to stare at the four new occupants of the room. A young woman who looked startlingly like Lilianna, but with Nottingham's green eyes and black hair, and a young man who looked almost exactly like Nottingham but with Lilianna's blue eyes and red-brown hair stood next to a young man who looked disturbingly like a young Jake McCartey with dark hair.

The Jake look-alike was the one who had spoken. Another woman was behind them, her long snow-white hair a shocking contrast to her youthful features and brilliant black eyes.

"Eve?" Lilianna queried. When the white-haired woman walked forward, Lilianna begged, "Please, save my husband."

Sara backed away as the woman came and knelt beside Lilianna. Sara could feel immense energy, a thousand-fold stronger than the Witchblade, roll from Eve like a tide. Eve pressed her right hand on Nottingham's head and a black and white crackling energy surrounded her hand and his body. It lasted only a few moments, but Eve staggered to her feet as if sapped of strength. Sara noticed belatedly that the woman wore a leather glove that covered her left arm from fingertips to shoulder.

Eve informed Lilianna, "He'll be tired for awhile, but he's out of danger. Irons will no longer be able to control him."

Eve passed her right hand quickly over Lilianna's injuries and they were gone.

"Who are you people?" Jake finally found his voice enough to ask.

The other young woman stepped forward and smiled, "Maybe you'd better sit down, Grandpa."

"Oh boy," Sara muttered, "I don't think I'm ready to hear this."

Just then Nottingham woke up and Lilianna helped him stagger over to Irons' throne-chair before gently settling into his lap. He stared at the Lilianna and Nottingham look-alikes tenderly for a moment.

Placing his hand low on Lilianna's abdomen, he asked softly, "Our children?"

Lilianna smiled softly and kissed him before answering, "Yes." She pointed at the girl. "Danielle Marie Nottingham." The girl smiled and nodded and Lilianna's finger swung to the young man, "And James Pezzini Nottingham."

James bowed and smiled when his grandmother gasped. He had been named after his great-grandfather who had been killed by Gallo long before his mother had even existed. And his sister had been named for Sara's former partner and her childhood best friend. None of whom Lilianna had ever met or even been told about. But Sara knew every word they said was true. The Witchblade confirmed it before she could even think to question.

And the other young man was her son, Joseph Ian McCartey. Named for Captain Siri and Nottingham, even though Nottingham's full name was really Christian. Sara and Jake had liked the name Ian better. Would like? Boy, this was confusing.

"Why are you here?" Sara asked, concerned. How could they possibly have more problems than they already did? Jake was beside her once again, his expression dazed. "Or should I say why are you now?"

Joseph laughed delightedly at his mother's humor, but James was the one who answered, "Dani and I are here to tell Mom and Dad that they can stay in this timeline safely. Mom won't be born and taken away, her timeline has been obliterated."

"But how is that possible?" Sara blanched and placed a hand on her own still flat stomach. "Am I going to…lose my baby?"

"No," Joseph hastened to reassure his mother, "but the baby growing inside you isn't Lilianna. It never was. It's me. You conceived me a day before Lilianna would have been conceived, after you talked to Maria about her, before you knew who Lilianna was. She will never be born, but Eve called in a favor for her to be able to continue to exist."

_Eve must know some powerful beings if Lilianna's very existence could be called in as a favor_, Sara thought.

"I can never repay you for this," Sara admitted to the woman at the same time that Nottingham said a simple, "Thank you."

Eve nodded and smiled at them both. A groan sounded from the other side of the room and eight pairs of eyes glared at Irons as he stood up.

Irons growled at Lilianna, "For that I will kill you myself."

Then he seemed to notice the state of things. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the dead guards' shredded bodies. He gasped with surprise at seeing Nottingham very much alive, drew his brows together in confusion at the sight of three young people looking amazingly like the people he considered his playthings, and looked positively terrified when his eyes landed on Eve.

"No, not you, it can't be, that was eighty years ago!"

Sara looked surprised at yet another revelation of how long the man had been alive. Jake threw his hands up in the air, as if giving up on trying to understand any of it. Sara hoped he moved on to acceptance soon. Eve was frowning, obviously trying to place Irons, and the occupants of the room who had not known her before today wondered how old she was.

Then the puzzlement on her face turned to dark fury and she snapped at Irons, "You! You almost killed my sister! I should kill you right here and now. Unfortunately you have another fate in store for you."

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The finality in her words caused Irons to visibly relax and he turned his attention back to his previous concerns. Nottingham was sitting in the throne chair with Sara's daughter in his lap. Nottingham's head was resting on her shoulder and her cheek was pressed to the top of his head. Their arms were around each other, and they both, amazingly enough after what he had done to them, looked calm and happy. They were also both free of injury.

How was he going to turn this series of events to his advantage? There had always been a way before, he was sure a solution would present itself now. An uneasy silence fell over the group and for the first time in a very long time, he was truly worried. Irons motioned to the strangers.

"Who are you people?"

"They are my son and his niece and nephew. And if you ever do anything to harm any of them, you will wish Lilianna or Eve had killed you."

There was deadly promise in Sara's voice, and Irons gulped. Because of her love for her family, she just might reach her full potential with the Witchblade.

When the group turned to leave his office, he did and said nothing to stop them.

At the last minute, Lilianna turned around and informed him, "Don't bother calling my husband, he no longer works for you."

With that, they were gone. Irons sank into his chair. He had trained, paid and controlled Christian "Ian" Nottingham for twenty-nine years. He didn't even want to think about the number of years he had spent setting up his empire so that he would be all powerful when he found the true wielder of the Witchblade to use as his right hand.

All that time, all that work and all he had to show for it was material wealth and some laughable power in the world of politics. Laughable when compared to the power he could have had, anyway. Maybe it was time he saw to some of his other holdings. The New York branch of Vorschlag had outlived its usefulness. It appeared that a long overdue visit to Blue Cove, Delaware was in order.


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note: **_Italics_ signify thought or emphasis.

Here it is, the final chapter. Hope you all enjoyed my story. See the final author's note at the bottom of this chapter for information on the next installment in the saga (when I begin it will depend upon response, so please review). Thanks!

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**The Centre  
Blue Cove, Delaware  
Wednesday, August 15, 2001  
Early afternoon**

"Have you heard the rumors?"

A brunette woman with ice blue eyes looked up from her computer screen to glare at her lackey, a short, thin, balding man who stuttered when he was nervous. He was one of two men who were the closest things to friends or family that she'd had until very recently, but years of habit made her snap at him all the same.

"And what rumors would those be, Broots? I can't keep up with all of them in this god forsaken place."

"One of the m-members of the Tri-triumverate is coming here, to the Centre, M-miss Parker. He's going to step up the search for Jarod."

For a moment her blue eyes revealed her pain, and she almost looked panicked before the Ice Queen mask was firmly back in place. Miss Parker stood suddenly and left the room, snapping her fingers for a fidgeting Broots to follow.

"We have to tell Sydney."

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**Sara and Jake's Apartment  
New York City, New York  
Wednesday, August 15, 2001  
Early evening**

Sara smiled at her daughter and son as she brought a tray of sandwiches from Jake's kitchen to the enormous living room. Lily, as Christian called her, and Joseph were sitting on one end of the biggest couch, Christian sprawled over the rest of it with his head in Lily's lap, struggling to stay awake as he continued to watch his son and daughter sitting across the room on the other couch with Jake. Lily stroked one hand down the side of his head over and over, and every once in awhile Christian reached up to grab her wrist and place a reverent kiss on her palm.

Sara could hardly believe he was the same man who had been tailing and helping her for the past year. He no longer looked at the ground all the time, meeting people's gazes head on. Though he had yet to touch anyone other than his family, there was scarcely a time when he wasn't in some sort of physical contact with his wife, and he had earlier hugged Dani and James. And as for his clothes, well, he was currently wearing a pair of blue jeans with holes in the knees and a white muscle tee that read "Surfers do it wet." Even the lettering on the shirt was blue, leaving the only thing black on him his hair.

Jake had lent both Christian and Lily some of his old clothes to wear after they had taken a shower together in the spare room. Lily had a fuller figure than Sara and wouldn't fit into any of Sara's clothes since Sara had a tendency to wear things that were formfitting. Lily was wearing a man's white undershirt and a pair of hot pink silk boxers. Sara had raised an eyebrow at Jake when he had taken them out of a drawer, but he had just smiled lopsidedly.

How she could have fallen for the former surfer still puzzled her at times. But she did love him. Jake was a good man, and he would be a wonderful father to both of their children, once he got over the shock of having a daughter who would never be physically born and was only a year younger than him. At the moment he was leaning back and staring at the ceiling, a beer in his hand.

He had yet to sip from the bottle, and Sara was amazed that he was taking all the supernatural mumbo jumbo so well. She herself was still getting used to everything, and she had been dealing with the Witchblade for a long time already. She was also glad his connections to the FBI were finally out in the open. Everyone in the room had secrets of some kind, and Sara had a hunch she wasn't the only one who wondered who or what Eve really was.

"We need to go back soon," Joseph broke the silence that had settled over the room as everyone ate. "Back to our own time. People will start to worry."

Jake turned to his future son, "Will you be our only kid, other than Lily?"

Joseph looked at Eve where she stood in a corner of the room and she shook her head imperceptibly.

Joseph blinked in response and told his father, "I can't tell you that. The only reason the Powers That Be let us come with Eve, other than the fact that the three of us already exist inside of our mothers, was to prevent grief and perhaps destruction."

Lily and Christian looked at each other tenderly and Sara knew that neither one of them would have wanted to go on without the other. She had no doubt in her mind that her son-in-law had been saved by Eve. There would have been nothing any doctor in the world could have done for him. And she had, by extension, saved Lilianna.

Wanting to again thank the woman, Sara instead asked, "Are you from the future? Do we know your parents?"

Lilianna laughed, a soft, musical sound, and Eve glared at her in a way that spoke of exasperation.

Answering Sara, she stated, "My parents have been dead for nearly twelve thousand years, and no, I'm not from the future, though I have been there. I am what is known as a Time Jumper. I go where and when I'm needed. But this is actually the correct time for me to be in. I'm also an Immortal."

Jake had started choking on his first sip of beer when Eve said the words "twelve thousand", and he and Sara turned to stare at Eve with their mouths hanging open. She looked away from them and shook her head. Sara wondered if she had anyone who accepted her completely for who she was.

Just then, a blue line appeared in thin air and a dark-haired girl stepped through. She lifted perfectly arched brows at the group and smiled at Eve. Sara could tell she didn't smile much from the stiff way her lips moved. It reminded her of the way Christian had first smiled in her presence.

"What is it, Faith?" Eve asked worriedly. Faith looked around the room again, and Eve hastened to reassure her, "It's all right, they're friends."

"Mara's back from the Realms, and she's in love with Angel, but for some reason she doesn't think he loves her, but he does. He was trying to go after her, but the Oracles called him away."

Lilianna frowned at the names Mara and Angel, but said nothing.

"So, Mara has finally found her mate. That may mean all hell's going to break loose sooner than I thought. As soon as I bring Dani, James and Joseph back to where they belong, I'll meet you in Sunnydale."

Faith nodded and sliced at the air with an ornate dagger that Sara hadn't noticed she was holding. She stepped into the blue line that resulted, and she and the line disappeared. The future generation stood and hugs were exchanged all around, Christian even hugging his not-yet-born brother-in-law.

Lilianna pulled her daughter aside while the others were exchanging good-byes and asked for only Dani to hear, "Do the two of you have Witchblades?"

Dani nodded, "Yes, we're part of the tribe and so is Joe. Eve made us leave them at home for some reason."

Lilianna hesitated and asked, "Do you know about…your aunt?"

"Susanna is fine. She sort of lives next door to you. If everything turns out the way it does in our timeline, and there's still a great chance it won't, then it will all work out the way its supposed to, Mom."

Lilianna and Dani hugged one more time, the yet-unborn woman rejoining her companions. Then Eve raised her right arm and a swirling blue vortex opened. After the four travelers went through, it closed.

"Well, if I ever say my life is boring from now on, you all have permission to kick me."

Lilianna smiled at her father's words and Nottingham looked at his father-in-law with a gleam in his eye.

"Strike that, Lily and Sara have permission, but not you. You've already had your turn. And the two of you can't use that _thing_ against me."

"The Witchblade, Jake," Sara corrected gently as she sat in his lap. "It's a part of all of our lives, so you'll just have to get used to it."

Jake made a disgruntled sound and, when Christian yawned, offered to the other couple, "You guys are welcome to stay in the guest room tonight."

"Thanks, Dad, but no," Lilianna refused. "We need to get home and feed Bast."

"The cat with the bald spots?" Sara asked, looking incredulous.

Lilianna laughed, "What's really going to blow you away is that Christian is the one who brought her home."

Sara's mouth fell open and Christian scowled. The four of them stood up and Jake and Christian shook hands. Lilianna hugged both her parents. When Christian turned to her, Sara held out a hand and was further shocked when he enveloped her in a hug.

He whispered for only her to hear, "Thank you. For your daughter, for my children. For everything."

Sara nodded with tears in her eyes, touched. Jake stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her as they watched Lilianna and Christian leave the apartment.

He whispered in her ear, "I didn't think I would, but I like him. He loves her very much." He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "Let's go read our son a bedtime story."

She turned in his arms and gave him a puzzled look. He scooped her up against his chest and began walking toward their bedroom.

He looked down at her stomach and began in an officious voice, "Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who was very strong and thought she didn't need a prince. Then she met a handsome prince from a far away land who liked to ride waves on a giant tongue depressor…"

Sara's rich laughter echoed through the apartment and into the hallway, reaching Lilianna and Christian as they got onboard the elevator. They looked at each other and smiled. They had both been worried about how Jake would react to everything, but things were back to normal, or as normal as they got for their strange little family.

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**The Centre  
Blue Cove, Delaware  
Thursday, August 16, 2001**

"Syd," Miss Parker coaxed, "come with us to greet the new head honcho. If we impress him, maybe he'll let us have more power over the search for Jarod."

Sydney looked at her calmly. "If he removes Mr. Raines, and all the other people you consider obstacles, from impeding our search, would you really turn Jarod in?"

Miss Parker flinched.

"Syd, she has to," Broots answered for her. "The only way she can ever leave the Centre is if she brings him in. You know that."

But Sydney just continued to wait for Miss Parker's answer.

Finally, she whispered, "I have to, Syd."

Sydney sighed. "Fine, let's go wait for the new boss. But know that I will never again help to trap Jarod. You can find someone else to be bait."

Miss Parker straightened and Broots shivered when all the light went out of her eyes. He had been working with her for six years, but her Ice Queen persona still terrified him. She used it less and less now, and he knew it was mostly thanks to all the help Jarod had given her with the things that meant the most to her, her mother's life and death and their shared brother, Ethan.

Broots followed Miss Parker and Sydney to the lobby of the Centre. They maneuvered themselves to a position near the Tower elevator. Only Miss Parker had the authority to go into the Tower without being summoned and then only to visit her father, but they knew the man they were waiting for would come down to inspect the rest of the Centre. The men in power always did, getting the lay of the land they now considered theirs. And if the rumors they had been hearing about this guy were true, the land and everything on it truly were his. The man they were waiting for was rumored to be the head of the Triumverate.

The three of them stood facing each other, talking softly, but all of them kept an eye trained on the elevator door. Ten minutes later, the doors slid open to reveal a white-blonde-haired man who appeared to be somewhere in his early forties. A man dressed in Army fatigues shadowed him. The new head honcho stepped from the elevator and took immediate notice of their little group, making a beeline for them.

Miss Parker stepped toward him, half to show that she was the leader of the little group, and half to protect the two men behind her.

"I see the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree," the man quipped, raking Miss Parker with his gaze, head to foot and back again. "Nice of the three of you to come see me on your own, but I have a meeting with Raines, Parker and Lyle to get to right now. I'll drop by your sub-level later. I'm Kenneth Irons, and the three of you can expect sweeping changes to happen around here. Now, if you'll excuse me."

When Mr. Irons had disappeared from view, Miss Parker spun back around. Sydney was frowning thoughtfully, and Broots just looked confused. The voices in her head were all screaming at once, but she blocked them out as she had done for most of her life. She wandered back down to her office, Broots and Sydney following close behind.

They waited silently together, and an hour later word reached the sub-levels that Raines had been sent to renewal wing and Mr. Lyle had been reassigned to one of the top-secret projects on sub-level twelve. Mr. Parker was still firmly entrenched in his Chairman position. Of whom they would now be reporting to, there was no word. They would have to wait for Mr. Irons to get around to them.

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**The Nottinghams' Loft  
New York, NY  
Tuesday, August 28, 2001**

Marking her place in _What to Expect When You're Expecting_, Lilianna picked up the shrilly-ringing telephone. "Hello?"

"It's Eve. Are you ready to help bring down Glory?"

"Is it time?" she asked, sitting up straighter.

Eve gave her an address in Sunnydale, California for a store called The Magic Box.

"There are a few prophecies that need to be worked through first, and you and Christian are part of it. Invite your parents, too."

With that, she hung up.

Lilianna set down the phone and turned to her husband, "Christian, looks like we'll all be going on that trip to California sooner than we thought."

He looked up from the floor where he was dragging a piece of string for Bast, who now looked normal, her bald patches grown out. She was still as tiny as the day Christian had found her, though.

"Is it time for the Created One to fight Glory?"

"Eve didn't say anything about the Created One, but it must be coming. We're a part of whatever leads up to it. I have to call Mom and Dad."

She turned back towards the phone, but Christian's voice stopped her from picking it up.

"They're on duty tonight, I'll go tell them. You pack."

He pressed a kiss to her mouth and dropped to one knee quickly to press his lips to her just barely rounded belly before leaving.

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Sara and Jake faced down the two thugs. The men were armed with automatics, and all Sara and Jake had were their 9 mms. Their back up was late for the fourth straight time and Sara was seriously considering having Dante killed. Maybe her son-in-law could do it for her. Just as the two hoods were about to fire, a black shape dropped from somewhere above them in the warehouse and clunked the two criminals' heads together.

The two men dropped to the floor and Christian smiled lopsidedly at Jake and Sara, "Looked like you needed some help."

"Thanks," Sara said dryly. "What are you really doing here?"

"Our trip has been moved up. Eve called."

Jake looked worriedly at his pregnant girlfriend. But he held his tongue for a moment, knowing how badly she wanted a shot at Glory. Knowing, too, that she would let nothing happen to their unborn son.

"Let's take these guys in and tell Dante we're leaving for a while. There's no telling how long we'll be."

Sara sent her partner a dazzling smile, and Christian gave him an understanding look. They were both in the same circumstances where the women in their lives were concerned. Pregnant, headstrong, and impossible to say no to.

**THE END…_FOR NOW_!**

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**Final Author's Note:** The saga will continue with the next installment "Curses, Prophecies, and Champions" and will most likely be listed under TV Shows under Crossovers. The first part of that story will overlap this one at first, telling the story of Mara's entrance into the Sunnydale scene and her meeting Angel, which was hinted at in ATOTB. There is a lot to be told in the next installment, so the set-up may end up being slightly different, with "parts" as opposed to just straight "chapters" like this story.

For anyone who is wondering, the TV shows that will be included in the entire saga are (in alphabetical order) Angel, Beastmaster, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Dark Angel, Highlander, Pretender, Stargate SG-1 and Witchblade. Movies include the Mummy movies (only a single character), Underworld and a cameo appearance of some characters from the Blade trilogy (actually just the first two movies). I think that's all of them, lol.


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